Jules Verne. 20000 leagues under the sea
Jules Verne. 20000 leagues under the sea (1868).
. 20000 .
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Date: 18.09.2002
Chapter I. A SHIFTING REEF
The year 1866 was signalised by a remarkable incident, a mysterious and
puzzling phenomenon, which doubtless no one has yet forgotten. Not to
mention rumours which agitated the maritime population and excited the
public mind, even in the interior of continents, seafaring men were
particularly excited. Merchants, common sailors, captains of vessels,
skippers, both of Europe and America, naval officers of all countries, and
the Governments of several States on the two continents, were deeply
interested in the matter.
For some time past vessels had been met by "an enormous thing," a long
object, spindle-shaped, occasionally phosphorescent, and infinitely larger
and more rapid in its movements than a whale.
The facts relating to this apparition (entered in various log-books)
agreed in most respects as to the shape of the object or creature in
question, the untiring rapidity of its movements, its surprising power of
locomotion, and the peculiar life with which it seemed endowed. If it was
a whale, it surpassed in size all those hitherto classified in science.
Taking into consideration the mean of observations made at divers times-
rejecting the timid estimate of those who assigned to this object a length
of two hundred feet, equally with the exaggerated opinions which set it
down as a mile in width and three in length-we might fairly conclude that
this mysterious being surpassed greatly all dimensions admitted by the
learned ones of the day, if it existed at all. And that it DID exist was
an undeniable fact; and, with that tendency which disposes the human mind
in favour of the marvellous, we can understand the excitement produced in
the entire world by this supernatural apparition. As to classing it in the
list of fables, the idea was out of the question.
On the 20th of July, 1866, the steamer Governor Higginson, of the
Calcutta and Burnach Steam Navigation Company, had met this moving mass
five miles off the east coast of Australia. Captain Baker thought at first
that he was in the presence of an unknown sandbank; he even prepared to
determine its exact position when two columns of water, projected by the
mysterious object, shot with a hissing noise a hundred and fifty feet up
into the air. Now, unless the sandbank had been submitted to the
intermittent eruption of a geyser, the Governor Higginson had to do
neither more nor less than with an aquatic mammal, unknown till then,
which threw up from its blow-holes columns of water mixed with air and
vapour.
Similar facts were observed on the 23rd of July in the same year, in
the Pacific Ocean, by the Columbus, of the West India and Pacific Steam
Navigation Company. But this extraordinary creature could transport itself
from one place to another with surprising velocity; as, in an interval of
three days, the Governor Higginson and the Columbus had observed it at two
different points of the chart, separated by a distance of more than seven
hundred nautical leagues.
Fifteen days later, two thousand miles farther off, the Helvetia, of
the Compagnie-Nationale, and the Shannon, of the Royal Mail Steamship
Company, sailing to windward in that portion of the Atlantic lying between
the United States and Europe, respectively signalled the monster to each
other in 42O 15' N. lat. and 60O 35' W. long. In these simultaneous
observations they thought themselves justified in estimating the minimum
length of the mammal at more than three hundred and fifty feet, as the
Shannon and Helvetia were of smaller dimensions than it, though they
measured three hundred feet over all.
Now the largest whales, those which frequent those parts of the sea
round the Aleutian, Kulammak, and Umgullich islands, have never exceeded
the length of sixty yards, if they attain that.
In every place of great resort the monster was the fashion. They sang
of it in the cafes, ridiculed it in the papers, and represented it on the
stage. All kinds of stories were circulated regarding it. There appeared
in the papers caricatures of every gigantic and imaginary creature, from
the white whale, the terrible "Moby Dick" of sub-arctic regions, to the
immense kraken, whose tentacles could entangle a ship of five hundred tons
and hurry it into the abyss of the ocean. The legends of ancient times
were even revived.
Then burst forth the unending argument between the believers and the
unbelievers in the societies of the wise and the scientific journals. "The
question of the monster" inflamed all minds. Editors of scientific
journals, quarrelling with believers in the supernatural, spilled seas of
ink during this memorable campaign, some even drawing blood; for from the
sea-serpent they came to direct personalities.
During the first months of the year 1867 the question seemed buried,
never to revive, when new facts were brought before the public. It was
then no longer a scientific problem to be solved, but a real danger
seriously to be avoided. The question took quite another shape. The
monster became a small island, a rock, a reef, but a reef of indefinite
and shifting proportions.
On the 5th of March, 1867, the Moravian, of the Montreal Ocean Company,
finding herself during the night in 27O 30' lat. and 72O 15' long., struck
on her starboard quarter a rock, marked in no chart for that part of the
sea. Under the combined efforts of the wind and its four hundred horse
power, it was going at the rate of thirteen knots. Had it not been for the
superior strength of the hull of the Moravian, she would have been broken
by the shock and gone down with the 237 passengers she was bringing home
from Canada.
The accident happened about five o'clock in the morning, as the day was
breaking. The officers of the quarter-deck hurried to the after-part of
the vessel. They examined the sea with the most careful attention. They
saw nothing but a strong eddy about three cables' length distant, as if
the surface had been violently agitated. The bearings of the place were
taken exactly, and the Moravian continued its route without apparent
damage. Had it struck on a submerged rock, or on an enormous wreck? They
could not tell; but, on examination of the ship's bottom when undergoing
repairs, it was found that part of her keel was broken.
This fact, so grave in itself, might perhaps have been forgotten like
many others if, three weeks after, it had not been re-enacted under
similar circumstances. But, thanks to the nationality of the victim of the
shock, thanks to the reputation of the company to which the vessel
belonged, the circumstance became extensively circulated.
The 13th of April, 1867, the sea being beautiful, the breeze
favourable, the Scotia, of the Cunard Company's line, found herself in 15O
12' long. and 45O 37' lat. She was going at the speed of thirteen knots
and a half.
At seventeen minutes past four in the afternoon, whilst the passengers
were assembled at lunch in the great saloon, a slight shock was felt on
the hull of the Scotia, on her quarter, a little aft of the port-paddle.
The Scotia had not struck, but she had been struck, and seemingly by
something rather sharp and penetrating than blunt. The shock had been so
slight that no one had been alarmed, had it not been for the shouts of the
carpenter's watch, who rushed on to the bridge, exclaiming, "We are
sinking! we are sinking!" At first the passengers were much frightened,
but Captain Anderson hastened to reassure them. The danger could not be
imminent. The Scotia, divided into seven compartments by strong
partitions, could brave with impunity any leak. Captain Anderson went down
immediately into the hold. He found that the sea was pouring into the
fifth compartment; and the rapidity of the influx proved that the force of
the water was considerable. Fortunately this compartment did not hold the
boilers, or the fires would have been immediately extinguished. Captain
Anderson ordered the engines to be stopped at once, and one of the men
went down to ascertain the extent of the injury. Some minutes afterwards
they discovered the existence of a large hole, two yards in diameter, in
the ship's bottom. Such a leak could not be stopped; and the Scotia, her
paddles half submerged, was obliged to continue her course. She was then
three hundred miles from Cape Clear, and, after three days' delay, which
caused great uneasiness in Liverpool, she entered the basin of the
company.
The engineers visited the Scotia, which was put in dry dock. They could
scarcely believe it possible; at two yards and a half below water-mark was
a regular rent, in the form of an isosceles triangle. The broken place in
the iron plates was so perfectly defined that it could not have been more
neatly done by a punch. It was clear, then, that the instrument producing
the perforation was not of a common stamp and, after having been driven
with prodigious strength, and piercing an iron plate 1 3/8 inches thick,
had withdrawn itself by a backward motion.
Such was the last fact, which resulted in exciting once more the
torrent of public opinion. From this moment all unlucky casualties which
could not be otherwise accounted for were put down to the monster.
Upon this imaginary creature rested the responsibility of all these
shipwrecks, which unfortunately were considerable; for of three thousand
ships whose loss was annually recorded at Lloyd's, the number of sailing
and steam-ships supposed to be totally lost, from the absence of all news,
amounted to not less than two hundred!
Now, it was the "monster" who, justly or unjustly, was accused of their
disappearance, and, thanks to it, communication between the different
continents became more and more dangerous. The public demanded sharply
that the seas should at any price be relieved from this formidable
cetacean. [1]
[1] Member of the whale family.
At the period when these events took place, I had just returned from a
scientific research in the disagreeable territory of Nebraska, in the
United States. In virtue of my office as Assistant Professor in the Museum
of Natural History in Paris, the French Government had attached me to that
expedition. After six months in Nebraska, I arrived in New York towards
the end of March, laden with a precious collection. My departure for
France was fixed for the first days in May. Meanwhile I was occupying
myself in classifying my mineralogical, botanical, and zoological riches,
when the accident happened to the Scotia.
I was perfectly up in the subject which was the question of the day.
How could I be otherwise? I had read and reread all the American and
European papers without being any nearer a conclusion. This mystery
puzzled me. Under the impossibility of forming an opinion, I jumped from
one extreme to the other. That there really was something could not be
doubted, and the incredulous were invited to put their finger on the wound
of the Scotia.
On my arrival at New York the question was at its height. The theory of
the floating island, and the unapproachable sandbank, supported by minds
little competent to form a judgment, was abandoned. And, indeed, unless
this shoal had a machine in its stomach, how could it change its position
with such astonishing rapidity?
From the same cause, the idea of a floating hull of an enormous wreck
was given up.
There remained, then, only two possible solutions of the question,
which created two distinct parties: on one side, those who were for a
monster of colossal strength; on the other, those who were for a submarine
vessel of enormous motive power.
But this last theory, plausible as it was, could not stand against
inquiries made in both worlds. That a private gentleman should have such a
machine at his command was not likely. Where, when, and how was it built?
and how could its construction have been kept secret? Certainly a
Government might possess such a destructive machine. And in these
disastrous times, when the ingenuity of man has multiplied the power of
weapons of war, it was possible that, without the knowledge of others, a
State might try to work such a formidable engine.
But the idea of a war machine fell before the declaration of
Governments. As public interest was in question, and transatlantic
communications suffered, their veracity could not be doubted. But how
admit that the construction of this submarine boat had escaped the public
eye? For a private gentleman to keep the secret under such circumstances
would be very difficult, and for a State whose every act is persistently
watched by powerful rivals, certainly impossible.
Upon my arrival in New York several persons did me the honour of
consulting me on the phenomenon in question. I had published in France a
work in quarto, in two volumes, entitled Mysteries of the Great Submarine
Grounds. This book, highly approved of in the learned world, gained for me
a special reputation in this rather obscure branch of Natural History. My
advice was asked. As long as I could deny the reality of the fact, I
confined myself to a decided negative. But soon, finding myself driven
into a corner, I was obliged to explain myself point by point. I discussed
the question in all its forms, politically and scientifically; and I give
here an extract from a carefully-studied article which I published in the
number of the 30th of April. It ran as follows:
"After examining one by one the different theories, rejecting all other
suggestions, it becomes necessary to admit the existence of a marine
animal of enormous power".
"The great depths of the ocean are entirely unknown to us. Soundings
cannot reach them. What passes in those remote depths- what beings live,
or can live, twelve or fifteen miles beneath the surface of the
waters-what is the organisation of these animals, we can scarcely
conjecture. However, the solution of the problem submitted to me may
modify the form of the dilemma. Either we do know all the varieties of
beings which people our planet, or we do not. If we do NOT know them
all-if Nature has still secrets in the deeps for us, nothing is more
conformable to reason than to admit the existence of fishes, or cetaceans
of other kinds, or even of new species, of an organisation formed to
inhabit the strata inaccessible to soundings, and which an accident of
some sort has brought at long intervals to the upper level of the ocean.
"If, on the contrary, we DO know all living kinds, we must necessarily
seek for the animal in question amongst those marine beings already
classed; and, in that case, I should be disposed to admit the existence of
a gigantic narwhal".
"The common narwhal, or unicorn of the sea, often attains a length of
sixty feet. Increase its size fivefold or tenfold, give it strength
proportionate to its size, lengthen its destructive weapons, and you
obtain the animal required. It will have the proportions determined by the
officers of the Shannon, the instrument required by the perforation of the
Scotia, and the power necessary to pierce the hull of the steamer.
"Indeed, the narwhal is armed with a sort of ivory sword, a halberd,
according to the expression of certain naturalists. The principal tusk has
the hardness of steel. Some of these tusks have been found buried in the
bodies of whales, which the unicorn always attacks with success. Others
have been drawn out, not without trouble, from the bottoms of ships, which
they had pierced through and through, as a gimlet pierces a barrel. The
Museum of the Faculty of Medicine of Paris possesses one of these
defensive weapons, two yards and a quarter in length, and fifteen inches
in diameter at the base.
"Very well! suppose this weapon to be six times stronger and the animal
ten times more powerful; launch it at the rate of twenty miles an hour,
and you obtain a shock capable of producing the catastrophe required.
Until further information, therefore, I shall maintain it to be a
sea-unicorn of colossal dimensions, armed not with a halberd, but with a
real spur, as the armoured frigates, or the `rams' of war, whose
massiveness and motive power it would possess at the same time. Thus may
this puzzling phenomenon be explained, unless there be something over and
above all that one has ever conjectured, seen, perceived, or experienced;
which is just within the bounds of possibility."
These last words were cowardly on my part; but, up to a certain point,
I wished to shelter my dignity as professor, and not give too much cause
for laughter to the Americans, who laugh well when they do laugh. I
reserved for myself a way of escape. In effect, however, I admitted the
existence of the "monster." My article was warmly discussed, which
procured it a high reputation. It rallied round it a certain number of
partisans. The solution it proposed gave, at least, full liberty to the
imagination. The human mind delights in grand conceptions of supernatural
beings. And the sea is precisely their best vehicle, the only medium
through which these giants (against which terrestrial animals, such as
elephants or rhinoceroses, are as nothing) can be produced or developed.
The industrial and commercial papers treated the question chiefly from
this point of view. The Shipping and Mercantile Gazette, the Lloyd's List,
the Packet-Boat, and the Maritime and Colonial Review, all papers devoted
to insurance companies which threatened to raise their rates of premium,
were unanimous on this point. Public opinion had been pronounced. The
United States were the first in the field; and in New York they made
preparations for an expedition destined to pursue this narwhal. A frigate
of great speed, the Abraham Lincoln, was put in commission as soon as
possible. The arsenals were opened to Commander Farragut, who hastened the
arming of his frigate; but, as it always happens, the moment it was
decided to pursue the monster, the monster did not appear. For two months
no one heard it spoken of. No ship met with it. It seemed as if this
unicorn knew of the plots weaving around it. It had been so much talked
of, even through the Atlantic cable, that jesters pretended that this
slender fly had stopped a telegram on its passage and was making the most
of it.
So when the frigate had been armed for a long campaign, and provided
with formidable fishing apparatus, no one could tell what course to
pursue. Impatience grew apace, when, on the 2nd of July, they learned that
a steamer of the line of San Francisco, from California to Shanghai, had
seen the animal three weeks before in the North Pacific Ocean. The
excitement caused by this news was extreme. The ship was revictualled and
well stocked with coal.
Three hours before the Abraham Lincoln left Brooklyn pier, I received a
letter worded as follows:
To M. ARONNAX, Professor in the Museum of Paris, Fifth Avenue Hotel,
New York.
SIR,-If you will consent to join the Abraham Lincoln in this
expedition, the Government of the United States will with pleasure see
France represented in the enterprise. Commander Farragut has a cabin at
your disposal.
Very cordially yours, J.B. HOBSON, Secretary of Marine.
Chapter III. I FORM MY RESOLUTION
Three seconds before the arrival of J. B. Hobson's letter I no more
thought of pursuing the unicorn than of attempting the passage of the
North Sea. Three seconds after reading the letter of the honourable
Secretary of Marine, I felt that my true vocation, the sole end of my
life, was to chase this disturbing monster and purge it from the world.
But I had just returned from a fatiguing journey, weary and longing for
repose. I aspired to nothing more than again seeing my country, my
friends, my little lodging by the Jardin des Plantes, my dear and precious
collections-but nothing could keep me back! I forgot all-fatigue, friends
and collections-and accepted without hesitation the offer of the American
Government.
"Besides," thought I, "all roads lead back to Europe; and the unicorn
may be amiable enough to hurry me towards the coast of France. This worthy
animal may allow itself to be caught in the seas of Europe (for my
particular benefit), and I will not bring back less than half a yard of
his ivory halberd to the Museum of Natural History." But in the meanwhile
I must seek this narwhal in the North Pacific Ocean, which, to return to
France, was taking the road to the antipodes.
"Conseil," I called in an impatient voice.
Conseil was my servant, a true, devoted Flemish boy, who had
accompanied me in all my travels. I liked him, and he returned the liking
well. He was quiet by nature, regular from principle, zealous from habit,
evincing little disturbance at the different surprises of life, very quick
with his hands, and apt at any service required of him; and, despite his
name, never giving advice-even when asked for it.
Conseil had followed me for the last ten years wherever science led.
Never once did he complain of the length or fatigue of a journey, never
make an objection to pack his portmanteau for whatever country it might
be, or however far away, whether China or Congo. Besides all this, he had
good health, which defied all sickness, and solid muscles, but no nerves;
good morals are understood. This boy was thirty years old, and his age to
that of his master as fifteen to twenty. May I be excused for saying that
I was forty years old?
But Conseil had one fault: he was ceremonious to a degree, and would
never speak to me but in the third person, which was sometimes provoking.
"Conseil," said I again, beginning with feverish hands to make
preparations for my departure.
Certainly I was sure of this devoted boy. As a rule, I never asked him
if it were convenient for him or not to follow me in my travels; but this
time the expedition in question might be prolonged, and the enterprise
might be hazardous in pursuit of an animal capable of sinking a frigate as
easily as a nutshell. Here there was matter for reflection even to the
most impassive man in the world. What would Conseil say?
"Conseil," I called a third time.
Conseil appeared.
"Did you call, sir?" said he, entering.
"Yes, my boy; make preparations for me and yourself too. We leave in
two hours."
"As you please, sir," replied Conseil, quietly.
"Not an instant to lose; lock in my trunk all travelling utensils,
coats, shirts, and stockings-without counting, as many as you can, and
make haste."
"And your collections, sir?" observed Conseil.
"They will keep them at the hotel."
"We are not returning to Paris, then?" said Conseil.
"Oh! certainly," I answered, evasively, "by making a curve."
"Will the curve please you, sir?"
"Oh! it will be nothing; not quite so direct a road, that is all. We
take our passage in the Abraham, Lincoln."
"As you think proper, sir," coolly replied Conseil.
"You see, my friend, it has to do with the monster- the famous narwhal.
We are going to purge it from the seas. A glorious mission, but a
dangerous one! We cannot tell where we may go; these animals can be very
capricious. But we will go whether or no; we have got a captain who is
pretty wide-awake."
Our luggage was transported to the deck of the frigate immediately. I
hastened on board and asked for Commander Farragut. One of the sailors
conducted me to the poop, where I found myself in the presence of a
good-looking officer, who held out his hand to me.
"Monsieur Pierre Aronnax?" said he.
"Himself," replied I. "Commander Farragut?"
"You are welcome, Professor; your cabin is ready for you."
I bowed, and desired to be conducted to the cabin destined for me.
The Abraham Lincoln had been well chosen and equipped for her new
destination. She was a frigate of great speed, fitted with high-pressure
engines which admitted a pressure of seven atmospheres. Under this the
Abraham Lincoln attained the mean speed of nearly eighteen knots and a
third an hour- a considerable speed, but, nevertheless, insufficient to
grapple with this gigantic cetacean.
The interior arrangements of the frigate corresponded to its nautical
qualities. I was well satisfied with my cabin, which was in the after
part, opening upon the gunroom.
"We shall be well off here," said I to Conseil.
"As well, by your honour's leave, as a hermit-crab in the shell of a
whelk," said Conseil.
I left Conseil to stow our trunks conveniently away, and remounted the
poop in order to survey the preparations for departure.
At that moment Commander Farragut was ordering the last moorings to be
cast loose which held the Abraham Lincoln to the pier of Brooklyn. So in a
quarter of an hour, perhaps less, the frigate would have sailed without
me. I should have missed this extraordinary, supernatural, and incredible
expedition, the recital of which may well meet with some suspicion.
But Commander Farragut would not lose a day nor an hour in scouring the
seas in which the animal had been sighted. He sent for the engineer.
"Is the steam full on?" asked he.
"Yes, sir," replied the engineer.
"Go ahead," cried Commander Farragut.
Captain Farragut was a good seaman, worthy of the frigate he commanded.
His vessel and he were one. He was the soul of it. On the question of the
monster there was no doubt in his mind, and he would not allow the
existence of the animal to be disputed on board. He believed in it, as
certain good women believe in the leviathan-by faith, not by reason. The
monster did exist, and he had sworn to rid the seas of it. Either Captain
Farragut would kill the narwhal, or the narwhal would kill the captain.
There was no third course.
The officers on board shared the opinion of their chief. They were ever
chatting, discussing, and calculating the various chances of a meeting,
watching narrowly the vast surface of the ocean. More than one took up his
quarters voluntarily in the cross-trees, who would have cursed such a
berth under any other circumstances. As long as the sun described its
daily course, the rigging was crowded with sailors, whose feet were burnt
to such an extent by the heat of the deck as to render it unbearable;
still the Abraham Lincoln had not yet breasted the suspected waters of the
Pacific. As to the ship's company, they desired nothing better than to
meet the unicorn, to harpoon it, hoist it on board, and despatch it. They
watched the sea with eager attention.
Besides, Captain Farragut had spoken of a certain sum of two thousand
dollars, set apart for whoever should first sight the monster, were he
cabin-boy, common seaman, or officer.
I leave you to judge how eyes were used on board the Abraham Lincoln.
For my own part I was not behind the others, and, left to no one my
share of daily observations. The frigate might have been called the Argus,
for a hundred reasons. Only one amongst us, Conseil, seemed to protest by
his indifference against the question which so interested us all, and
seemed to be out of keeping with the general enthusiasm on board.
I have said that Captain Farragut had carefully provided his ship with
every apparatus for catching the gigantic cetacean. No whaler had ever
been better armed. We possessed every known engine, from the harpoon
thrown by the hand to the barbed arrows of the blunderbuss, and the
explosive balls of the duck-gun. On the forecastle lay the perfection of a
breech-loading gun, very thick at the breech, and very narrow in the bore,
the model of which had been in the Exhibition of 1867. This precious
weapon of American origin could throw with ease a conical projectile of
nine pounds to a mean distance of ten miles.
Thus the Abraham Lincoln wanted for no means of destruction; and, what
was better still she had on board Ned Land, the prince of harpooners.
Ned Land was a Canadian, with an uncommon quickness of hand, and who
knew no equal in his dangerous occupation. Skill, coolness, audacity, and
cunning he possessed in a superior degree, and it must be a cunning whale
to escape the stroke of his harpoon.
Ned Land was about forty years of age; he was a tall man (more than six
feet high), strongly built, grave and taciturn, occasionally violent, and
very passionate when contradicted. His person attracted attention, but
above all the boldness of his look, which gave a singular expression to
his face.
Who calls himself Canadian calls himself French; and, little
communicative as Ned Land was, I must admit that he took a certain liking
for me. My nationality drew him to me, no doubt. It was an opportunity for
him to talk, and for me to hear, that old language of Rabelais, which is
still in use in some Canadian provinces. The harpooner's family was
originally from Quebec, and was already a tribe of hardy fishermen when
this town belonged to France.
Little by little, Ned Land acquired a taste for chatting, and I loved
to hear the recital of his adventures in the polar seas. He related his
fishing, and his combats, with natural poetry of expression; his recital
took the form of an epic poem, and I seemed to be listening to a Canadian
Homer singing the Iliad of the regions of the North.
I am portraying this hardy companion as I really knew him. We are old
friends now, united in that unchangeable friendship which is born and
cemented amidst extreme dangers. Ah, brave Ned! I ask no more than to live
a hundred years longer, that I may have more time to dwell the longer on
your memory.
Now, what was Ned Land's opinion upon the question of the marine
monster? I must admit that he did not believe in the unicorn, and was the
only one on board who did not share that universal conviction. He even
avoided the subject, which I one day thought it my duty to press upon him.
One magnificent evening, the 30th July (that is to say, three weeks after
our departure), the frigate was abreast of Cape Blanc, thirty miles to
leeward of the coast of Patagonia. We had crossed the tropic of Capricorn,
and the Straits of Magellan opened less than seven hundred miles to the
south. Before eight days were over the Abraham Lincoln would be ploughing
the waters of the Pacific.
Seated on the poop, Ned Land and I were chatting of one thing and
another as we looked at this mysterious sea, whose great depths had up to
this time been inaccessible to the eye of man. I naturally led up the
conversation to the giant unicorn, and examined the various chances of
success or failure of the expedition. But, seeing that Ned Land let me
speak without saying too much himself, I pressed him more closely.
"Well, Ned," said I, "is it possible that you are not convinced of the
existence of this cetacean that we are following? Have you any particular
reason for being so incredulous?"
The harpooner looked at me fixedly for some moments before answering,
struck his broad forehead with his hand (a habit of his), as if to collect
himself, and said at last, "Perhaps I have, Mr. Aronnax."
"But, Ned, you, a whaler by profession, familiarised with all the great
marine mammalia-YOU ought to be the last to doubt under such
circumstances!"
"That is just what deceives you, Professor," replied Ned. "As a whaler
I have followed many a cetacean, harpooned a great number, and killed
several; but, however strong or well-armed they may have been, neither
their tails nor their weapons would have been able even to scratch the
iron plates of a steamer."
"But, Ned, they tell of ships which the teeth of the narwhal have
pierced through and through."
"Wooden ships-that is possible," replied the Canadian, "but I have
never seen it done; and, until further proof, I deny that whales,
cetaceans, or sea-unicorns could ever produce the effect you describe."
"Well, Ned, I repeat it with a conviction resting on the logic of
facts. I believe in the existence of a mammal power fully organised,
belonging to the branch of vertebrata, like the whales, the cachalots, or
the dolphins, and furnished with a horn of defence of great penetrating
power."
"Hum!" said the harpooner, shaking his head with the air of a man who
would not be convinced.
"Notice one thing, my worthy Canadian," I resumed. "If such an animal
is in existence, if it inhabits the depths of the ocean, if it frequents
the strata lying miles below the surface of the water, it must necessarily
possess an organisation the strength of which would defy all comparison."
"And why this powerful organisation?" demanded Ned.
"Because it requires incalculable strength to keep one's self in these
strata and resist their pressure. Listen to me. Let us admit that the
pressure of the atmosphere is represented by the weight of a column of
water thirty-two feet high. In reality the column of water would be
shorter, as we are speaking of sea water, the density of which is greater
than that of fresh water. Very well, when you dive, Ned, as many times 32
feet of water as there are above you, so many times does your body bear a
pressure equal to that of the atmosphere, that is to say, 15 lb. for each
square inch of its surface. It follows, then, that at 320 feet this
pressure equals that of 10 atmospheres, of 100 atmospheres at 3,200 feet,
and of 1,000 atmospheres at 32,000 feet, that is, about 6 miles; which is
equivalent to saying that if you could attain this depth in the ocean,
each square three-eighths of an inch of the surface of your body would
bear a pressure of 5,600 lb. Ah! my brave Ned, do you know how many square
inches you carry on the surface of your body?"
"I have no idea, Mr. Aronnax."
"About 6,500; and as in reality the atmospheric pressure is about 15
lb. to the square inch, your 6,500 square inches bear at this moment a
pressure of 97,500 lb."
"Without my perceiving it?"
"Without your perceiving it. And if you are not crushed by such a
pressure, it is because the air penetrates the interior of your body with
equal pressure. Hence perfect equilibrium between the interior and
exterior pressure, which thus neutralise each other, and which allows you
to bear it without inconvenience. But in the water it is another thing."
"Yes, I understand," replied Ned, becoming more attentive; "because the
water surrounds me, but does not penetrate."
"Precisely, Ned: so that at 32 feet beneath the surface of the sea you
would undergo a pressure of 97,500 lb.; at 320 feet, ten times that
pressure; at 3,200 feet, a hundred times that pressure; lastly, at 32,000
feet, a thousand times that pressure would be 97,500,000 lb.-that is to
say, that you would be flattened as if you had been drawn from the plates
of a hydraulic machine!"
"The devil!" exclaimed Ned.
"Very well, my worthy harpooner, if some vertebrate, several hundred
yards long, and large in proportion, can maintain itself in such depths-
of those whose surface is represented by millions of square inches, that
is by tens of millions of pounds, we must estimate the pressure they
undergo. Consider, then, what must be the resistance of their bony
structure, and the strength of their organisation to withstand such
pressure!"
"Why!" exclaimed Ned Land, "they must be made of iron plates eight
inches thick, like the armoured frigates."
"As you say, Ned. And think what destruction such a mass would cause,
if hurled with the speed of an express train against the hull of a
vessel."
"Yes-certainly-perhaps," replied the Canadian, shaken by these figures,
but not yet willing to give in.
"Well, have I convinced you?"
"You have convinced me of one thing, sir, which is that, if such
animals do exist at the bottom of the seas, they must necessarily be as
strong as you say."
"But if they do not exist, mine obstinate harpooner, how explain the
accident to the Scotia?"
The voyage of the Abraham Lincoln was for a long time marked by no
special incident. But one circumstance happened which showed the wonderful
dexterity of Ned Land, and proved what confidence we might place in him.
The 30th of June, the frigate spoke some American whalers, from whom we
learned that they knew nothing about the narwhal. But one of them, the
captain of the Monroe, knowing that Ned Land had shipped on board the
Abraham Lincoln, begged for his help in chasing a whale they had in sight.
Commander Farragut, desirous of seeing Ned Land at work, gave him
permission to go on board the Monroe. And fate served our Canadian so well
that, instead of one whale, he harpooned two with a double blow, striking
one straight to the heart, and catching the other after some minutes'
pursuit.
Decidedly, if the monster ever had to do with Ned Land's harpoon, I
would not bet in its favour.
The frigate skirted the south-east coast of America with great
rapidity. The 3rd of July we were at the opening of the Straits of
Magellan, level with Cape Vierges. But Commander Farragut would not take a
tortuous passage, but doubled Cape Horn.
The ship's crew agreed with him. And certainly it was possible that
they might meet the narwhal in this narrow pass. Many of the sailors
affirmed that the monster could not pass there, "that he was too big for
that!"
The 6th of July, about three o'clock in the afternoon, the Abraham
Lincoln, at fifteen miles to the south, doubled the solitary island, this
lost rock at the extremity of the American continent, to which some Dutch
sailors gave the name of their native town, Cape Horn. The course was
taken towards the north-west, and the next day the screw of the frigate
was at last beating the waters of the Pacific.
"Keep your eyes open!" called out the sailors.
And they were opened widely. Both eyes and glasses, a little dazzled,
it is true, by the prospect of two thousand dollars, had not an instant's
repose.
I myself, for whom money had no charms, was not the least attentive on
board. Giving but few minutes to my meals, but a few hours to sleep,
indifferent to either rain or sunshine, I did not leave the poop of the
vessel. Now leaning on the netting of the forecastle, now on the taffrail,
I devoured with eagerness the soft foam which whitened the sea as far as
the eye could reach; and how often have I shared the emotion of the
majority of the crew, when some capricious whale raised its black back
above the waves! The poop of the vessel was crowded on a moment. The
cabins poured forth a torrent of sailors and officers, each with heaving
breast and troubled eye watching the course of the cetacean. I looked and
looked till I was nearly blind, whilst Conseil kept repeating in a calm
voice:
"If, sir, you would not squint so much, you would see better!"
But vain excitement! The Abraham Lincoln checked its speed and made for
the animal signalled, a simple whale, or common cachalot, which soon
disappeared amidst a storm of abuse.
But the weather was good. The voyage was being accomplished under the
most favourable auspices. It was then the bad season in Australia, the
July of that zone corresponding to our January in Europe, but the sea was
beautiful and easily scanned round a vast circumference.
The 20th of July, the tropic of Capricorn was cut by 105d of longitude,
and the 27th of the same month we crossed the Equator on the 110th
meridian. This passed, the frigate took a more decided westerly direction,
and scoured the central waters of the Pacific. Commander Farragut thought,
and with reason, that it was better to remain in deep water, and keep
clear of continents or islands, which the beast itself seemed to shun
(perhaps because there was not enough water for him! suggested the greater
part of the crew). The frigate passed at some distance from the Marquesas
and the Sandwich Islands, crossed the tropic of Cancer, and made for the
China Seas. We were on the theatre of the last diversions of the monster:
and, to say truth, we no longer LIVED on board. The entire ship's crew
were undergoing a nervous excitement, of which I can give no idea: they
could not eat, they could not sleep-twenty times a day, a misconception or
an optical illusion of some sailor seated on the taffrail, would cause
dreadful perspirations, and these emotions, twenty times repeated, kept us
in a state of excitement so violent that a reaction was unavoidable.
And truly, reaction soon showed itself. For three months, during which
a day seemed an age, the Abraham Lincoln furrowed all the waters of the
Northern Pacific, running at whales, making sharp deviations from her
course, veering suddenly from one tack to another, stopping suddenly,
putting on steam, and backing ever and anon at the risk of deranging her
machinery, and not one point of the Japanese or American coast was left
unexplored.
The warmest partisans of the enterprise now became its most ardent
detractors. Reaction mounted from the crew to the captain himself, and
certainly, had it not been for the resolute determination on the part of
Captain Farragut, the frigate would have headed due southward. This
useless search could not last much longer. The Abraham Lincoln had nothing
to reproach herself with, she had done her best to succeed. Never had an
American ship's crew shown more zeal or patience; its failure could not be
placed to their charge-there remained nothing but to return.
This was represented to the commander. The sailors could not hide their
discontent, and the service suffered. I will not say there was a mutiny on
board, but after a reasonable period of obstinacy, Captain Farragut (as
Columbus did) asked for three days' patience. If in three days the monster
did not appear, the man at the helm should give three turns of the wheel,
and the Abraham Lincoln would make for the European seas.
This promise was made on the 2nd of November. It had the effect of
rallying the ship's crew. The ocean was watched with renewed attention.
Each one wished for a last glance in which to sum up his remembrance.
Glasses were used with feverish activity. It was a grand defiance given to
the giant narwhal, and he could scarcely fail to answer the summons and
"appear."
Two days passed, the steam was at half pressure; a thousand schemes
were tried to attract the attention and stimulate the apathy of the animal
in case it should be met in those parts. Large quantities of bacon were
trailed in the wake of the ship, to the great satisfaction (I must say) of
the sharks. Small craft radiated in all directions round the Abraham
Lincoln as she lay to, and did not leave a spot of the sea unexplored. But
the night of the 4th of November arrived without the unveiling of this
submarine mystery.
The next day, the 5th of November, at twelve, the delay would (morally
speaking) expire; after that time, Commander Farragut, faithful to his
promise, was to turn the course to the south-east and abandon for ever the
northern regions of the Pacific.
The frigate was then in 31O 15' N. lat. and 136O 42' E. long. The coast
of Japan still remained less than two hundred miles to leeward. Night was
approaching. They had just struck eight bells; large clouds veiled the
face of the moon, then in its first quarter. The sea undulated peaceably
under the stern of the vessel.
At that moment I was leaning forward on the starboard netting. Conseil,
standing near me, was looking straight before him. The crew, perched in
the ratlines, examined the horizon which contracted and darkened by
degrees. Officers with their night glasses scoured the growing darkness:
sometimes the ocean sparkled under the rays of the moon, which darted
between two clouds, then all trace of light was lost in the darkness.
In looking at Conseil, I could see he was undergoing a little of the
general influence. At least I thought so. Perhaps for the first time his
nerves vibrated to a sentiment of curiosity.
"Come, Conseil," said I, "this is the last chance of pocketing the two
thousand dollars."
"May I be permitted to say, sir," replied Conseil, "that I never
reckoned on getting the prize; and, had the government of the Union
offered a hundred thousand dollars, it would have been none the poorer."
"You are right, Conseil. It is a foolish affair after all, and one upon
which we entered too lightly. What time lost, what useless emotions! We
should have been back in France six months ago."
"In your little room, sir," replied Conseil, "and in your museum, sir;
and I should have already classed all your fossils, sir. And the
Babiroussa would have been installed in its cage in the Jardin des
Plantes, and have drawn all the curious people of the capital!"
"As you say, Conseil. I fancy we shall run a fair chance of being
laughed at for our pains."
"That's tolerably certain," replied Conseil, quietly; "I think they
will make fun of you, sir. And, must I say it-?"
"Go on, my good friend."
"Well, sir, you will only get your deserts."
"Indeed!"
"When one has the honour of being a savant as you are, sir, one should
not expose one's self to-"
Conseil had not time to finish his compliment. In the midst of general
silence a voice had just been heard. It was the voice of Ned Land
shouting:
"Look out there! The very thing we are looking for - on our weather
beam!"
Chapter VI. AT FULL STEAM
At this cry the whole ship's crew hurried towards the harpooner-
commander, officers, masters, sailors, cabin boys; even the engineers left
their engines, and the stokers their furnaces.
The order to stop her had been given, and the frigate now simply went
on by her own momentum. The darkness was then profound, and, however good
the Canadian's eyes were, I asked myself how he had managed to see, and
what he had been able to see. My heart beat as if it would break. But Ned
Land was not mistaken, and we all perceived the object he pointed to. At
two cables' length from the Abraham Lincoln, on the starboard quarter, the
sea seemed to be illuminated all over. It was not a mere phosphoric
phenomenon. The monster emerged some fathoms from the water, and then
threw out that very intense but mysterious light mentioned in the report
of several captains. This magnificent irradiation must have been produced
by an agent of great SHINING power. The luminous part traced on the sea an
immense oval, much elongated, the centre of which condensed a burning
heat, whose overpowering brilliancy died out by successive gradations.
"It is only a massing of phosphoric particles," cried one of the
officers.
"No, sir, certainly not," I replied. "That brightness is of an
essentially electrical nature. Besides, see, see! it moves; it is moving
forwards, backwards; it is darting towards us!"
A general cry arose from the frigate.
"Silence!" said the captain. "Up with the helm, reverse the engines."
The steam was shut off, and the Abraham Lincoln, beating to port,
described a semicircle.
"Right the helm, go ahead," cried the captain.
These orders were executed, and the frigate moved rapidly from the
burning light.
I was mistaken. She tried to sheer off, but the supernatural animal
approached with a velocity double her own.
We gasped for breath. Stupefaction more than fear made us dumb and
motionless. The animal gained on us, sporting with the waves. It made the
round of the frigate, which was then making fourteen knots, and enveloped
it with its electric rings like luminous dust.
Then it moved away two or three miles, leaving a phosphorescent track,
like those volumes of steam that the express trains leave behind. All at
once from the dark line of the horizon whither it retired to gain its
momentum, the monster rushed suddenly towards the Abraham Lincoln with
alarming rapidity, stopped suddenly about twenty feet from the hull, and
died out-not diving under the water, for its brilliancy did not abate-but
suddenly, and as if the source of this brilliant emanation was exhausted.
Then it reappeared on the other side of the vessel, as if it had turned
and slid under the hull. Any moment a collision might have occurred which
would have been fatal to us. However, I was astonished at the manoeuvres
of the frigate. She fled and did not attack.
On the captain's face, generally so impassive, was an expression of
unaccountable astonishment.
"Mr. Aronnax," he said, "I do not know with what formidable being I
have to deal, and I will not imprudently risk my frigate in the midst of
this darkness. Besides, how attack this unknown thing, how defend one's
self from it? Wait for daylight, and the scene will change."
"You have no further doubt, captain, of the nature of the animal?"
"No, sir; it is evidently a gigantic narwhal, and an electric one."
"Perhaps," added I, "one can only approach it with a torpedo."
"Undoubtedly," replied the captain, "if it possesses such dreadful
power, it is the most terrible animal that ever was created. That is why,
sir, I must be on my guard."
The crew were on their feet all night. No one thought of sleep. The
Abraham Lincoln, not being able to struggle with such velocity, had
moderated its pace, and sailed at half speed. For its part, the narwhal,
imitating the frigate, let the waves rock it at will, and seemed decided
not to leave the scene of the struggle. Towards midnight, however, it
disappeared, or, to use a more appropriate term, it "died out" like a
large glow-worm. Had it fled? One could only fear, not hope it. But at
seven minutes to one o'clock in the morning a deafening whistling was
heard, like that produced by a body of water rushing with great violence.
The captain, Ned Land, and I were then on the poop, eagerly peering
through the profound darkness.
"Ned Land," asked the commander, "you have often heard the roaring of
whales?"
"Often, sir; but never such whales the sight of which brought me in two
thousand dollars. If I can only approach within four harpoons' length of
it!"
"But to approach it," said the commander, "I ought to put a whaler at
your disposal?"
"Certainly, sir."
"That will be trifling with the lives of my men."
"And mine too," simply said the harpooner.
Towards two o'clock in the morning, the burning light reappeared, not
less intense, about five miles to windward of the Abraham Lincoln.
Notwithstanding the distance, and the noise of the wind and sea, one heard
distinctly the loud strokes of the animal's tail, and even its panting
breath. It seemed that, at the moment that the enormous narwhal had come
to take breath at the surface of the water, the air was engulfed in its
lungs, like the steam in the vast cylinders of a machine of two thousand
horse-power.
"Hum!" thought I, "a whale with the strength of a cavalry regiment
would be a pretty whale!"
We were on the qui vive till daylight, and prepared for the combat. The
fishing implements were laid along the hammock nettings. The second
lieutenant loaded the blunder busses, which could throw harpoons to the
distance of a mile, and long duck-guns, with explosive bullets, which
inflicted mortal wounds even to the most terrible animals. Ned Land
contented himself with sharpening his harpoon-a terrible weapon in his
hands.
At six o'clock day began to break; and, with the first glimmer of
light, the electric light of the narwhal disappeared. At seven o'clock the
day was sufficiently advanced, but a very thick sea fog obscured our view,
and the best spy glasses could not pierce it. That caused disappointment
and anger.
I climbed the mizzen-mast. Some officers were already perched on the
mast-heads. At eight o'clock the fog lay heavily on the waves, and its
thick scrolls rose little by little. The horizon grew wider and clearer at
the same time. Suddenly, just as on the day before, Ned Land's voice was
heard:
"The thing itself on the port quarter!" cried the harpooner.
Every eye was turned towards the point indicated. There, a mile and a
half from the frigate, a long blackish body emerged a yard above the
waves. Its tail, violently agitated, produced a considerable eddy. Never
did a tail beat the sea with such violence. An immense track, of dazzling
whiteness, marked the passage of the animal, and described a long curve.
The frigate approached the cetacean. I examined it thoroughly.
The reports of the Shannon and of the Helvetia had rather exaggerated
its size, and I estimated its length at only two hundred and fifty feet.
As to its dimensions, I could only conjecture them to be admirably
proportioned. While I watched this phenomenon, two jets of steam and water
were ejected from its vents, and rose to the height of 120 feet; thus I
ascertained its way of breathing. I concluded definitely that it belonged
to the vertebrate branch, class mammalia.
The crew waited impatiently for their chief's orders. The latter, after
having observed the animal attentively, called the engineer. The engineer
ran to him.
"Sir," said the commander, "you have steam up?"
"Yes, sir," answered the engineer.
"Well, make up your fires and put on all steam."
Three hurrahs greeted this order. The time for the struggle had
arrived. Some moments after, the two funnels of the frigate vomited
torrents of black smoke, and the bridge quaked under the trembling of the
boilers.
The Abraham Lincoln, propelled by her wonderful screw, went straight at
the animal. The latter allowed it to come within half a cable's length;
then, as if disdaining to dive, it took a little turn, and stopped a short
distance off.
This pursuit lasted nearly three-quarters of an hour, without the
frigate gaining two yards on the cetacean. It was quite evident that at
that rate we should never come up with it.
"Well, Mr. Land," asked the captain, "do you advise me to put the boats
out to sea?"
"No, sir," replied Ned Land; "because we shall not take that beast
easily."
"What shall we do then?"
"Put on more steam if you can, sir. With your leave, I mean to post
myself under the bowsprit, and, if we get within harpooning distance, I
shall throw my harpoon."
"Go, Ned," said the captain. "Engineer, put on more pressure."
Ned Land went to his post. The fires were increased, the screw revolved
forty-three times a minute, and the steam poured out of the valves. We
heaved the log, and calculated that the Abraham Lincoln was going at the
rate of 18 1/2 miles an hour.
But the accursed animal swam at the same speed.
For a whole hour the frigate kept up this pace, without gaining six
feet. It was humiliating for one of the swiftest sailers in the American
navy. A stubborn anger seized the crew; the sailors abused the monster,
who, as before, disdained to answer them; the captain no longer contented
himself with twisting his beard-he gnawed it.
The engineer was called again.
"You have turned full steam on?"
"Yes, sir," replied the engineer.
The speed of the Abraham Lincoln increased. Its masts trembled down to
their stepping holes, and the clouds of smoke could hardly find way out of
the narrow funnels.
They heaved the log a second time.
"Well?" asked the captain of the man at the wheel.
"Nineteen miles and three-tenths, sir."
"Clap on more steam."
The engineer obeyed. The manometer showed ten degrees. But the cetacean
grew warm itself, no doubt; for without straining itself, it made 19 3/10
miles.
What a pursuit! No, I cannot describe the emotion that vibrated through
me. Ned Land kept his post, harpoon in hand. Several times the animal let
us gain upon it.-"We shall catch it! we shall catch it!" cried the
Canadian. But just as he was going to strike, the cetacean stole away with
a rapidity that could not be estimated at less than thirty miles an hour,
and even during our maximum of speed, it bullied the frigate, going round
and round it. A cry of fury broke from everyone!
At noon we were no further advanced than at eight o'clock in the
morning.
The captain then decided to take more direct means.
"Ah!" said he, "that animal goes quicker than the Abraham Lincoln. Very
well! we will see whether it will escape these conical bullets. Send your
men to the forecastle, sir."
The forecastle gun was immediately loaded and slewed round. But the
shot passed some feet above the cetacean, which was half a mile off.
"Another, more to the right," cried the commander, "and five dollars to
whoever will hit that infernal beast."
An old gunner with a grey beard-that I can see now-with steady eye and
grave face, went up to the gun and took a long aim. A loud report was
heard, with which were mingled the cheers of the crew.
The bullet did its work; it hit the animal, and, sliding off the
rounded surface, was lost in two miles depth of sea.
The chase began again, and the captain, leaning towards me, said:
"I will pursue that beast till my frigate bursts up."
"Yes," answered I; "and you will be quite right to do it."
I wished the beast would exhaust itself, and not be insensible to
fatigue like a steam engine. But it was of no use. Hours passed, without
its showing any signs of exhaustion.
However, it must be said in praise of the Abraham Lincoln that she
struggled on indefatigably. I cannot reckon the distance she made under
three hundred miles during this unlucky day, November the 6th. But night
came on, and overshadowed the rough ocean.
Now I thought our expedition was at an end, and that we should never
again see the extraordinary animal. I was mistaken. At ten minutes to
eleven in the evening, the electric light reappeared three miles to
windward of the frigate, as pure, as intense as during the preceding
night.
The narwhal seemed motionless; perhaps, tired with its day's work, it
slept, letting itself float with the undulation of the waves. Now was a
chance of which the captain resolved to take advantage.
He gave his orders. The Abraham Lincoln kept up half steam, and
advanced cautiously so as not to awake its adversary. It is no rare thing
to meet in the middle of the ocean whales so sound asleep that they can be
successfully attacked, and Ned Land had harpooned more than one during its
sleep. The Canadian went to take his place again under the bowsprit.
The frigate approached noiselessly, stopped at two cables' lengths from
the animal, and following its track. No one breathed; a deep silence
reigned on the bridge. We were not a hundred feet from the burning focus,
the light of which increased and dazzled our eyes.
At this moment, leaning on the forecastle bulwark, I saw below me Ned
Land grappling the martingale in one hand, brandishing his terrible
harpoon in the other, scarcely twenty feet from the motionless animal.
Suddenly his arm straightened, and the harpoon was thrown; I heard the
sonorous stroke of the weapon, which seemed to have struck a hard body.
The electric light went out suddenly, and two enormous waterspouts broke
over the bridge of the frigate, rushing like a torrent from stem to stern,
overthrowing men, and breaking the lashings of the spars. A fearful shock
followed, and, thrown over the rail without having time to stop myself, I
fell into the sea.
Chapter VII. AN UNKNOWN SPECIES OF WHALE
This unexpected fall so stunned me that I have no clear recollection of
my sensations at the time. I was at first drawn down to a depth of about
twenty feet. I am a good swimmer (though without pretending to rival Byron
or Edgar Poe, who were masters of the art), and in that plunge I did not
lose my presence of mind. Two vigorous strokes brought me to the surface
of the water. My first care was to look for the frigate. Had the crew seen
me disappear? Had the Abraham Lincoln veered round? Would the captain put
out a boat? Might I hope to be saved?
The darkness was intense. I caught a glimpse of a black mass
disappearing in the east, its beacon lights dying out in the distance. It
was the frigate! I was lost.
"Help, help!" I shouted, swimming towards the Abraham Lincoln in
desperation.
My clothes encumbered me; they seemed glued to my body, and paralysed
my movements.
I was sinking! I was suffocating!
"Help!"
This was my last cry. My mouth filled with water; I struggled against
being drawn down the abyss. Suddenly my clothes were seized by a strong
hand, and I felt myself quickly drawn up to the surface of the sea; and I
heard, yes, I heard these words pronounced in my ear:
"If master would be so good as to lean on my shoulder, master would
swim with much greater ease."
I seized with one hand my faithful Conseil's arm.
"Is it you?" said I, "you?"
"Myself," answered Conseil; "and waiting master's orders."
"That shock threw you as well as me into the sea?"
"No; but, being in my master's service, I followed him."
The worthy fellow thought that was but natural.
"And the frigate?" I asked.
"The frigate?" replied Conseil, turning on his back; "I think that
master had better not count too much on her."
"You think so?"
"I say that, at the time I threw myself into the sea, I heard the men
at the wheel say, `The screw and the rudder are broken.'
"Broken?"
"Yes, broken by the monster's teeth. It is the only injury the Abraham
Lincoln has sustained. But it is a bad look-out for us- she no longer
answers her helm."
"Then we are lost!"
"Perhaps so," calmly answered Conseil. "However, we have still several
hours before us, and one can do a good deal in some hours."
Conseil's imperturbable coolness set me up again. I swam more
vigorously; but, cramped by my clothes, which stuck to me like a leaden
weight, I felt great difficulty in bearing up. Conseil saw this.
"Will master let me make a slit?" said he; and, slipping an open knife
under my clothes, he ripped them up from top to bottom very rapidly. Then
he cleverly slipped them off me, while I swam for both of us.
Then I did the same for Conseil, and we continued to swim near to each
other.
Nevertheless, our situation was no less terrible. Perhaps our
disappearance had not been noticed; and, if it had been, the frigate could
not tack, being without its helm. Conseil argued on this supposition, and
laid his plans accordingly. This quiet boy was perfectly self-possessed.
We then decided that, as our only chance of safety was being picked up by
the Abraham Lincoln's boats, we ought to manage so as to wait for them as
long as possible. I resolved then to husband our strength, so that both
should not be exhausted at the same time; and this is how we managed:
while one of us lay on our back, quite still, with arms crossed, and legs
stretched out, the other would swim and push the other on in front. This
towing business did not last more than ten minutes each; and relieving
each other thus, we could swim on for some hours, perhaps till day-break.
Poor chance! but hope is so firmly rooted in the heart of man! Moreover,
there were two of us. Indeed I declare (though it may seem improbable) if
I sought to destroy all hope-if I wished to despair, I could not.
The collision of the frigate with the cetacean had occurred about
eleven o'clock in the evening before. I reckoned then we should have eight
hours to swim before sunrise, an operation quite practicable if we
relieved each other. The sea, very calm, was in our favour. Sometimes I
tried to pierce the intense darkness that was only dispelled by the
phosphorescence caused by our movements. I watched the luminous waves that
broke over my hand, whose mirror-like surface was spotted with silvery
rings. One might have said that we were in a bath of quicksilver.
Near one o'clock in the morning, I was seized with dreadful fatigue. My
limbs stiffened under the strain of violent cramp. Conseil was obliged to
keep me up, and our preservation devolved on him alone. I heard the poor
boy pant; his breathing became short and hurried. I found that he could
not keep up much longer.
"Leave me! leave me!" I said to him.
"Leave my master? Never!" replied he. "I would drown first."
Just then the moon appeared through the fringes of a thick cloud that
the wind was driving to the east. The surface of the sea glittered with
its rays. This kindly light reanimated us. My head got better again. I
looked at all points of the horizon. I saw the frigate! She was five miles
from us, and looked like a dark mass, hardly discernible. But no boats!
I would have cried out. But what good would it have been at such a
distance! My swollen lips could utter no sounds. Conseil could articulate
some words, and I heard him repeat at intervals, "Help! help!"
Our movements were suspended for an instant; we listened. It might be
only a singing in the ear, but it seemed to me as if a cry answered the
cry from Conseil.
"Did you hear?" I murmured.
"Yes! Yes!"
And Conseil gave one more despairing cry.
This time there was no mistake! A human voice responded to ours! Was it
the voice of another unfortunate creature, abandoned in the middle of the
ocean, some other victim of the shock sustained by the vessel? Or rather
was it a boat from the frigate, that was hailing us in the darkness?
Conseil made a last effort, and, leaning on my shoulder, while I struck
out in a desperate effort, he raised himself half out of the water, then
fell back exhausted.
"What did you see?"
"I saw-" murmured he; "I saw-but do not talk-reserve all your strength!"
What had he seen? Then, I know not why, the thought of the monster came
into my head for the first time! But that voice! The time is past for
Jonahs to take refuge in whales' bellies! However, Conseil was towing me
again. He raised his head sometimes, looked before us, and uttered a cry
of recognition, which was responded to by a voice that came nearer and
nearer. I scarcely heard it. My strength was exhausted; my fingers
stiffened; my hand afforded me support no longer; my mouth, convulsively
opening, filled with salt water. Cold crept over me. I raised my head for
the last time, then I sank.
At this moment a hard body struck me. I clung to it: then I felt that I
was being drawn up, that I was brought to the surface of the water, that
my chest collapsed-I fainted.
It is certain that I soon came to, thanks to the vigorous rubbings that
I received. I half opened my eyes.
"Conseil!" I murmured.
"Does master call me?" asked Conseil.
Just then, by the waning light of the moon which was sinking down to
the horizon, I saw a face which was not Conseil's and which I immediately
recognised.
"Ned!" I cried.
"The same, sir, who is seeking his prize!" replied the Canadian.
"Were you thrown into the sea by the shock to the frigate?"
"Yes, Professor; but more fortunate than you, I was able to find a
footing almost directly upon a floating island."
"An island?"
"Or, more correctly speaking, on our gigantic narwhal."
"Explain yourself, Ned!"
"Only I soon found out why my harpoon had not entered its skin and was
blunted."
"Why, Ned, why?"
"Because, Professor, that beast is made of sheet iron."
The Canadian's last words produced a sudden revolution in my brain. I
wriggled myself quickly to the top of the being, or object, half out of
the water, which served us for a refuge. I kicked it. It was evidently a
hard, impenetrable body, and not the soft substance that forms the bodies
of the great marine mammalia. But this hard body might be a bony covering,
like that of the antediluvian animals; and I should be free to class this
monster among amphibious reptiles, such as tortoises or alligators.
Well, no! the blackish back that supported me was smooth, polished,
without scales. The blow produced a metallic sound; and, incredible though
it may be, it seemed, I might say, as if it was made of riveted plates.
There was no doubt about it! This monster, this natural phenomenon that
had puzzled the learned world, and over thrown and misled the imagination
of seamen of both hemispheres, it must be owned was a still more
astonishing phenomenon, inasmuch as it was a simply human construction.
We had no time to lose, however. We were lying upon the back of a sort
of submarine boat, which appeared (as far as I could judge) like a huge
fish of steel. Ned Land's mind was made up on this point. Conseil and I
could only agree with him.
Just then a bubbling began at the back of this strange thing (which was
evidently propelled by a screw), and it began to move. We had only just
time to seize hold of the upper part, which rose about seven feet out of
the water, and happily its speed was not great.
"As long as it sails horizontally," muttered Ned Land, "I do not mind;
but, if it takes a fancy to dive, I would not give two straws for my
life."
The Canadian might have said still less. It became really necessary to
communicate with the beings, whatever they were, shut up inside the
machine. I searched all over the outside for an aperture, a panel, or a
manhole, to use a technical expression; but the lines of the iron rivets,
solidly driven into the joints of the iron plates, were clear and uniform.
Besides, the moon disappeared then, and left us in total darkness.
At last this long night passed. My indistinct remembrance prevents my
describing all the impressions it made. I can only recall one
circumstance. During some lulls of the wind and sea, I fancied I heard
several times vague sounds, a sort of fugitive harmony produced by words
of command. What was, then, the mystery of this submarine craft, of which
the whole world vainly sought an explanation? What kind of beings existed
in this strange boat? What mechanical agent caused its prodigious speed?
Daybreak appeared. The morning mists surrounded us, but they soon
cleared off. I was about to examine the hull, which formed on deck a kind
of horizontal platform, when I felt it gradually sinking.
"Oh! confound it!" cried Ned Land, kicking the resounding plate. "Open,
you inhospitable rascals!"
Happily the sinking movement ceased. Suddenly a noise, like iron works
violently pushed aside, came from the interior of the boat. One iron plate
was moved, a man appeared, uttered an odd cry, and disappeared
immediately.
Some moments after, eight strong men, with masked faces, appeared
noiselessly, and drew us down into their formidable machine.
Chapter VIII. MOBILIS IN MOBILI
This forcible abduction, so roughly carried out, was accomplished with
the rapidity of lightning. I shivered all over. Whom had we to deal with?
No doubt some new sort of pirates, who explored the sea in their own way.
Hardly had the narrow panel closed upon me, when I was enveloped in
darkness. My eyes, dazzled with the outer light, could distinguish
nothing. I felt my naked feet cling to the rungs of an iron ladder. Ned
Land and Conseil, firmly seized, followed me. At the bottom of the ladder,
a door opened, and shut after us immediately with a bang.
We were alone. Where, I could not say, hardly imagine. All was black,
and such a dense black that, after some minutes, my eyes had not been able
to discern even the faintest glimmer.
Meanwhile, Ned Land, furious at these proceedings, gave free vent to
his indignation.
"Confound it!" cried he, "here are people who come up to the Scotch for
hospitality. They only just miss being cannibals. I should not be
surprised at it, but I declare that they shall not eat me without my
protesting."
"Calm yourself, friend Ned, calm yourself," replied Conseil, quietly.
"Do not cry out before you are hurt. We are not quite done for yet."
"Not quite," sharply replied the Canadian, "but pretty near, at all
events. Things look black. Happily, my bowie knife I have still, and I can
always see well enough to use it. The first of these pirates who lays a
hand on me-"
"Do not excite yourself, Ned," I said to the harpooner, "and do not
compromise us by useless violence. Who knows that they will not listen to
us? Let us rather try to find out where we are."
I groped about. In five steps I came to an iron wall, made of plates
bolted together. Then turning back I struck against a wooden table, near
which were ranged several stools. The boards of this prison were concealed
under a thick mat, which deadened the noise of the feet. The bare walls
revealed no trace of window or door. Conseil, going round the reverse way,
met me, and we went back to the middle of the cabin, which measured about
twenty feet by ten. As to its height, Ned Land, in spite of his own great
height, could not measure it.
Half an hour had already passed without our situation being bettered,
when the dense darkness suddenly gave way to extreme light. Our prison was
suddenly lighted, that is to say, it became filled with a luminous matter,
so strong that I could not bear it at first. In its whiteness and
intensity I recognised that electric light which played round the
submarine boat like a magnificent phenomenon of phosphorescence. After
shutting my eyes involuntarily, I opened them, and saw that this luminous
agent came from a half globe, unpolished, placed in the roof of the cabin.
"At last one can see," cried Ned Land, who, knife in hand, stood on the
defensive.
"Yes," said I; "but we are still in the dark about ourselves."
"Let master have patience," said the imperturbable Conseil.
The sudden lighting of the cabin enabled me to examine it minutely. It
only contained a table and five stools. The invisible door might be
hermetically sealed. No noise was heard. All seemed dead in the interior
of this boat. Did it move, did it float on the surface of the ocean, or
did it dive into its depths? I could not guess.
A noise of bolts was now heard, the door opened, and two men appeared.
One was short, very muscular, broad-shouldered, with robust limbs,
strong head, an abundance of black hair, thick moustache, a quick
penetrating look, and the vivacity which characterises the population of
Southern France.
The second stranger merits a more detailed description. I made out his
prevailing qualities directly: self-confidence-because his head was well
set on his shoulders, and his black eyes looked around with cold
assurance; calmness-for his skin, rather pale, showed his coolness of
blood; energy-evinced by the rapid contraction of his lofty brows; and
courage-because his deep breathing denoted great power of lungs.
Whether this person was thirty-five or fifty years of age, I could not
say. He was tall, had a large forehead, straight nose, a clearly cut
mouth, beautiful teeth, with fine taper hands, indicative of a highly
nervous temperament. This man was certainly the most admirable specimen I
had ever met. One particular feature was his eyes, rather far from each
other, and which could take in nearly a quarter of the horizon at once.
This faculty-(I verified it later)-gave him a range of vision far
superior to Ned Land's. When this stranger fixed upon an object, his
eyebrows met, his large eyelids closed around so as to contract the range
of his vision, and he looked as if he magnified the objects lessened by
distance, as if he pierced those sheets of water so opaque to our eyes,
and as if he read the very depths of the seas.
The two strangers, with caps made from the fur of the sea otter, and
shod with sea boots of seal's skin, were dressed in clothes of a
particular texture, which allowed free movement of the limbs. The taller
of the two, evidently the chief on board, examined us with great
attention, without saying a word; then, turning to his companion, talked
with him in an unknown tongue. It was a sonorous, harmonious, and flexible
dialect, the vowels seeming to admit of very varied accentuation.
The other replied by a shake of the head, and added two or three
perfectly incomprehensible words. Then he seemed to question me by a look.
I replied in good French that I did not know his language; but he
seemed not to understand me, and my situation became more embarrassing.
"If master were to tell our story," said Conseil, "perhaps these
gentlemen may understand some words."
I began to tell our adventures, articulating each syllable clearly, and
without omitting one single detail. I announced our names and rank,
introducing in person Professor Aronnax, his servant Conseil, and master
Ned Land, the harpooner.
The man with the soft calm eyes listened to me quietly, even politely,
and with extreme attention; but nothing in his countenance indicated that
he had understood my story. When I finished, he said not a word.
There remained one resource, to speak English. Perhaps they would know
this almost universal language. I knew it-as well as the German
language-well enough to read it fluently, but not to speak it correctly.
But, anyhow, we must make ourselves understood.
"Go on in your turn," I said to the harpooner; "speak your best
Anglo-Saxon, and try to do better than I."
Ned did not beg off, and recommenced our story.
To his great disgust, the harpooner did not seem to have made himself
more intelligible than I had. Our visitors did not stir. They evidently
understood neither the language of England nor of France.
Very much embarrassed, after having vainly exhausted our speaking
resources, I knew not what part to take, when Conseil said:
"If master will permit me, I will relate it in German."
But in spite of the elegant terms and good accent of the narrator, the
German language had no success. At last, nonplussed, I tried to remember
my first lessons, and to narrate our adventures in Latin, but with no
better success. This last attempt being of no avail, the two strangers
exchanged some words in their unknown language, and retired.
The door shut.
"It is an infamous shame," cried Ned Land, who broke out for the
twentieth time. "We speak to those rogues in French, English, German, and
Latin, and not one of them has the politeness to answer!"
"Calm yourself," I said to the impetuous Ned; "anger will do no good."
"But do you see, Professor," replied our irascible companion, "that we
shall absolutely die of hunger in this iron cage?"
"Bah!" said Conseil, philosophically; "we can hold out some time yet."
"My friends," I said, "we must not despair. We have been worse off than
this. Do me the favour to wait a little before forming an opinion upon the
commander and crew of this boat."
"My opinion is formed," replied Ned Land, sharply. "They are rascals."
"Good! and from what country?"
"From the land of rogues!"
"My brave Ned, that country is not clearly indicated on the map of the
world; but I admit that the nationality of the two strangers is hard to
determine. Neither English, French, nor German, that is quite certain.
However, I am inclined to think that the commander and his companion were
born in low latitudes. There is southern blood in them. But I cannot
decide by their appearance whether they are Spaniards, Turks, Arabians, or
Indians. As to their language, it is quite incomprehensible."
"There is the disadvantage of not knowing all languages," said Conseil,
"or the disadvantage of not having one universal language."
As he said these words, the door opened. A steward entered. He brought
us clothes, coats and trousers, made of a stuff I did not know. I hastened
to dress myself, and my companions followed my example. During that time,
the steward-dumb, perhaps deaf-had arranged the table, and laid three
plates.
"This is something like!" said Conseil.
"Bah!" said the angry harpooner, "what do you suppose they eat here?
Tortoise liver, filleted shark, and beef steaks from seadogs."
"We shall see," said Conseil.
The dishes, of bell metal, were placed on the table, and we took our
places. Undoubtedly we had to do with civilised people, and, had it not
been for the electric light which flooded us, I could have fancied I was
in the dining-room of the Adelphi Hotel at Liverpool, or at the Grand
Hotel in Paris. I must say, however, that there was neither bread nor
wine. The water was fresh and clear, but it was water and did not suit Ned
Land's taste. Amongst the dishes which were brought to us, I recognised
several fish delicately dressed; but of some, although excellent, I could
give no opinion, neither could I tell to what kingdom they belonged,
whether animal or vegetable. As to the dinner-service, it was elegant, and
in perfect taste. Each utensil-spoon, fork, knife, plate-had a letter
engraved on it, with a motto above it, of which this is an exact
facsimile:
MOBILIS IN MOBILI N
The letter N was no doubt the initial of the name of the enigmatical
person who commanded at the bottom of the seas.
Ned and Conseil did not reflect much. They devoured the food, and I did
likewise. I was, besides, reassured as to our fate; and it seemed evident
that our hosts would not let us die of want.
However, everything has an end, everything passes away, even the hunger
of people who have not eaten for fifteen hours. Our appetites satisfied,
we felt overcome with sleep.
"Faith! I shall sleep well," said Conseil.
"So shall I," replied Ned Land.
My two companions stretched themselves on the cabin carpet, and were
soon sound asleep. For my own part, too many thoughts crowded my brain,
too many insoluble questions pressed upon me, too many fancies kept my
eyes half open. Where were we? What strange power carried us on? I felt-or
rather fancied I felt- the machine sinking down to the lowest beds of the
sea. Dreadful nightmares beset me; I saw in these mysterious asylums a
world of unknown animals, amongst which this submarine boat seemed to be
of the same kind, living, moving, and formidable as they. Then my brain
grew calmer, my imagination wandered into vague unconsciousness, and I
soon fell into a deep sleep.
Chapter IX. NED LAND'S TEMPERS
How long we slept I do not know; but our sleep must have lasted long,
for it rested us completely from our fatigues. I woke first. My companions
had not moved, and were still stretched in their corner.
Hardly roused from my somewhat hard couch, I felt my brain freed, my
mind clear. I then began an attentive examination of our cell. Nothing was
changed inside. The prison was still a prison- the prisoners, prisoners.
However, the steward, during our sleep, had cleared the table. I breathed
with difficulty. The heavy air seemed to oppress my lungs. Although the
cell was large, we had evidently consumed a great part of the oxygen that
it contained. Indeed, each man consumes, in one hour, the oxygen contained
in more than 176 pints of air, and this air, charged (as then) with a
nearly equal quantity of carbonic acid, becomes unbreathable.
It became necessary to renew the atmosphere of our prison, and no doubt
the whole in the submarine boat. That gave rise to a question in my mind.
How would the commander of this floating dwelling-place proceed? Would he
obtain air by chemical means, in getting by heat the oxygen contained in
chlorate of potash, and in absorbing carbonic acid by caustic potash? Or-a
more convenient, economical, and consequently more probable alternative-
would he be satisfied to rise and take breath at the surface of the water,
like a whale, and so renew for twenty-four hours the atmospheric
provision?
In fact, I was already obliged to increase my respirations to eke out
of this cell the little oxygen it contained, when suddenly I was refreshed
by a current of pure air, and perfumed with saline emanations. It was an
invigorating sea breeze, charged with iodine. I opened my mouth wide, and
my lungs saturated themselves with fresh particles.
At the same time I felt the boat rolling. The iron-plated monster had
evidently just risen to the surface of the ocean to breathe, after the
fashion of whales. I found out from that the mode of ventilating the boat.
When I had inhaled this air freely, I sought the conduit pipe, which
conveyed to us the beneficial whiff, and I was not long in finding it.
Above the door was a ventilator, through which volumes of fresh air
renewed the impoverished atmosphere of the cell.
I was making my observations, when Ned and Conseil awoke almost at the
same time, under the influence of this reviving air. They rubbed their
eyes, stretched themselves, and were on their feet in an instant.
"Did master sleep well?" asked Conseil, with his usual politeness.
"Very well, my brave boy. And you, Mr. Land?"
"Soundly, Professor. But, I don't know if I am right or not, there
seems to be a sea breeze!"
A seaman could not be mistaken, and I told the Canadian all that had
passed during his sleep.
"Good!" said he. "That accounts for those roarings we heard, when the
supposed narwhal sighted the Abraham Lincoln."
"Quite so, Master Land; it was taking breath."
"Only, Mr. Aronnax, I have no idea what o'clock it is, unless it is
dinner-time."
"Dinner-time! my good fellow? Say rather breakfast-time, for we
certainly have begun another day."
"So," said Conseil, "we have slept twenty-four hours?"
"That is my opinion."
"I will not contradict you," replied Ned Land. "But, dinner or
breakfast, the steward will be welcome, whichever he brings."
"Master Land, we must conform to the rules on board, and I suppose our
appetites are in advance of the dinner hour."
"That is just like you, friend Conseil," said Ned, impatiently. "You
are never out of temper, always calm; you would return thanks before
grace, and die of hunger rather than complain!"
Time was getting on, and we were fearfully hungry; and this time the
steward did not appear. It was rather too long to leave us, if they really
had good intentions towards us. Ned Land, tormented by the cravings of
hunger, got still more angry; and, notwithstanding his promise, I dreaded
an explosion when he found himself with one of the crew.
For two hours more Ned Land's temper increased; he cried, he shouted,
but in vain. The walls were deaf. There was no sound to be heard in the
boat; all was still as death. It did not move, for I should have felt the
trembling motion of the hull under the influence of the screw. Plunged in
the depths of the waters, it belonged no longer to earth: this silence was
dreadful.
I felt terrified, Conseil was calm, Ned Land roared.
Just then a noise was heard outside. Steps sounded on the metal flags.
The locks were turned, the door opened, and the steward appeared.
Before I could rush forward to stop him, the Canadian had thrown him
down, and held him by the throat. The steward was choking under the grip
of his powerful hand.
Conseil was already trying to unclasp the harpooner's hand from his
half-suffocated victim, and I was going to fly to the rescue, when
suddenly I was nailed to the spot by hearing these words in French:
"Be quiet, Master Land; and you, Professor, will you be so good as to
listen to me?"
Chapter X. THE MAN OF THE SEAS
It was the commander of the vessel who thus spoke.
At these words, Ned Land rose suddenly. The steward, nearly strangled,
tottered out on a sign from his master. But such was the power of the
commander on board, that not a gesture betrayed the resentment which this
man must have felt towards the Canadian. Conseil interested in spite of
himself, I stupefied, awaited in silence the result of this scene.
The commander, leaning against the corner of a table with his arms
folded, scanned us with profound attention. Did he hesitate to speak? Did
he regret the words which he had just spoken in French? One might almost
think so.
After some moments of silence, which not one of us dreamed of breaking,
"Gentlemen," said he, in a calm and penetrating voice, "I speak French,
English, German, and Latin equally well. I could, therefore, have answered
you at our first interview, but I wished to know you first, then to
reflect. The story told by each one, entirely agreeing in the main points,
convinced me of your identity. I know now that chance has brought before
me M. Pierre Aronnax, Professor of Natural History at the Museum of Paris,
entrusted with a scientific mission abroad, Conseil, his servant, and Ned
Land, of Canadian origin, harpooner on board the frigate Abraham Lincoln
of the navy of the United States of America."
I bowed assent. It was not a question that the commander put to me.
Therefore there was no answer to be made. This man expressed himself with
perfect ease, without any accent. His sentences were well turned, his
words clear, and his fluency of speech remarkable. Yet, I did not
recognise in him a fellow-countryman.
He continued the conversation in these terms:
"You have doubtless thought, sir, that I have delayed long in paying
you this second visit. The reason is that, your identity recognised, I
wished to weigh maturely what part to act towards you. I have hesitated
much. Most annoying circumstances have brought you into the presence of a
man who has broken all the ties of humanity. You have come to trouble my
existence."
"Unintentionally!" said I.
"Unintentionally?" replied the stranger, raising his voice a little.
"Was it unintentionally that the Abraham Lincoln pursued me all over the
seas? Was it unintentionally that you took passage in this frigate? Was it
unintentionally that your cannon-balls rebounded off the plating of my
vessel? Was it unintentionally that Mr. Ned Land struck me with his
harpoon?"
I detected a restrained irritation in these words. But to these
recriminations I had a very natural answer to make, and I made it.
"Sir," said I, "no doubt you are ignorant of the discussions which have
taken place concerning you in America and Europe. You do not know that
divers accidents, caused by collisions with your submarine machine, have
excited public feeling in the two continents. I omit the theories without
number by which it was sought to explain that of which you alone possess
the secret. But you must understand that, in pursuing you over the high
seas of the Pacific, the Abraham Lincoln believed itself to be chasing
some powerful sea-monster, of which it was necessary to rid the ocean at
any price."
A half-smile curled the lips of the commander: then, in a calmer tone:
"M. Aronnax," he replied, "dare you affirm that your frigate would not
as soon have pursued and cannonaded a submarine boat as a monster?"
This question embarrassed me, for certainly Captain Farragut might not
have hesitated. He might have thought it his duty to destroy a contrivance
of this kind, as he would a gigantic narwhal.
"You understand then, sir," continued the stranger, "that I have the
right to treat you as enemies?"
I answered nothing, purposely. For what good would it be to discuss
such a proposition, when force could destroy the best arguments?
"I have hesitated some time," continued the commander; "nothing obliged
me to show you hospitality. If I chose to separate myself from you, I
should have no interest in seeing you again; I could place you upon the
deck of this vessel which has served you as a refuge, I could sink beneath
the waters, and forget that you had ever existed. Would not that be my
right?"
"It might be the right of a savage," I answered, "but not that of a
civilised man."
"Professor," replied the commander, quickly, "I am not what you call a
civilised man! I have done with society entirely, for reasons which I
alone have the right of appreciating. I do not, therefore, obey its laws,
and I desire you never to allude to them before me again!"
This was said plainly. A flash of anger and disdain kindled in the eyes
of the Unknown, and I had a glimpse of a terrible past in the life of this
man. Not only had he put himself beyond the pale of human laws, but he had
made himself independent of them, free in the strictest acceptation of the
word, quite beyond their reach! Who then would dare to pursue him at the
bottom of the sea, when, on its surface, he defied all attempts made
against him?
What vessel could resist the shock of his submarine monitor? What
cuirass, however thick, could withstand the blows of his spur? No man
could demand from him an account of his actions; God, if he believed in
one-his conscience, if he had one- were the sole judges to whom he was
answerable.
These reflections crossed my mind rapidly, whilst the stranger
personage was silent, absorbed, and as if wrapped up in himself. I
regarded him with fear mingled with interest, as, doubtless, OEdiphus
regarded the Sphinx.
After rather a long silence, the commander resumed the conversation.
"I have hesitated," said he, "but I have thought that my interest might
be reconciled with that pity to which every human being has a right. You
will remain on board my vessel, since fate has cast you there. You will be
free; and, in exchange for this liberty, I shall only impose one single
condition. Your word of honour to submit to it will suffice."
"Speak, sir," I answered. "I suppose this condition is one which a man
of honour may accept?"
"Yes, sir; it is this: It is possible that certain events, unforeseen,
may oblige me to consign you to your cabins for some hours or some days,
as the case may be. As I desire never to use violence, I expect from you,
more than all the others, a passive obedience. In thus acting, I take all
the responsibility: I acquit you entirely, for I make it an impossibility
for you to see what ought not to be seen. Do you accept this condition?"
Then things took place on board which, to say the least, were singular,
and which ought not to be seen by people who were not placed beyond the
pale of social laws. Amongst the surprises which the future was preparing
for me, this might not be the least.
"We accept," I answered; "only I will ask your permission, sir, to
address one question to you-one only."
"Speak, sir."
"You said that we should be free on board."
"Entirely."
"I ask you, then, what you mean by this liberty?"
"Just the liberty to go, to come, to see, to observe even all that
passes here save under rare circumstances-the liberty, in short, which we
enjoy ourselves, my companions and I."
It was evident that we did not understand one another.
"Pardon me, sir," I resumed, "but this liberty is only what every
prisoner has of pacing his prison. It cannot suffice us."
"It must suffice you, however."
"What! we must renounce for ever seeing our country, our friends, our
relations again?"
"Yes, sir. But to renounce that unendurable worldly yoke which men
believe to be liberty is not perhaps so painful as you think."
"Well," exclaimed Ned Land, "never will I give my word of honour not to
try to escape."
"I did not ask you for your word of honour, Master Land," answered the
commander, coldly.
"Sir," I replied, beginning to get angry in spite of my self, "you
abuse your situation towards us; it is cruelty."
"No, sir, it is clemency. You are my prisoners of war. I keep you, when
I could, by a word, plunge you into the depths of the ocean. You attacked
me. You came to surprise a secret which no man in the world must
penetrate-the secret of my whole existence. And you think that I am going
to send you back to that world which must know me no more? Never! In
retaining you, it is not you whom I guard- it is myself."
These words indicated a resolution taken on the part of the commander,
against which no arguments would prevail.
"So, sir," I rejoined, "you give us simply the choice between life and
death?"
"Simply."
"My friends," said I, "to a question thus put, there is nothing to
answer. But no word of honour binds us to the master of this vessel."
"None, sir," answered the Unknown.
Then, in a gentler tone, he continued:
"Now, permit me to finish what I have to say to you. I know you, M.
Aronnax. You and your companions will not, perhaps, have so much to
complain of in the chance which has bound you to my fate. You will find
amongst the books which are my favourite study the work which you have
published on `the depths of the sea.' I have often read it. You have
carried out your work as far as terrestrial science permitted you. But you
do not know all-you have not seen all. Let me tell you then, Professor,
that you will not regret the time passed on board my vessel. You are going
to visit the land of marvels."
These words of the commander had a great effect upon me. I cannot deny
it. My weak point was touched; and I forgot, for a moment, that the
contemplation of these sublime subjects was not worth the loss of liberty.
Besides, I trusted to the future to decide this grave question. So I
contented myself with saying:
"By what name ought I to address you?"
"Sir," replied the commander, "I am nothing to you but Captain Nemo;
and you and your companions are nothing to me but the passengers of the
Nautilus."
Captain Nemo called. A steward appeared. The captain gave him his
orders in that strange language which I did not understand. Then, turning
towards the Canadian and Conseil:
"A repast awaits you in your cabin," said he. "Be so good as to follow
this man.
"And now, M. Aronnax, our breakfast is ready. Permit me to lead the
way."
"I am at your service, Captain."
I followed Captain Nemo; and as soon as I had passed through the door,
I found myself in a kind of passage lighted by electricity, similar to the
waist of a ship. After we had proceeded a dozen yards, a second door
opened before me.
I then entered a dining-room, decorated and furnished in severe taste.
High oaken sideboards, inlaid with ebony, stood at the two extremities of
the room, and upon their shelves glittered china, porcelain, and glass of
inestimable value. The plate on the table sparkled in the rays which the
luminous ceiling shed around, while the light was tempered and softened by
exquisite paintings.
In the centre of the room was a table richly laid out. Captain Nemo
indicated the place I was to occupy.
The breakfast consisted of a certain number of dishes, the contents of
which were furnished by the sea alone; and I was ignorant of the nature
and mode of preparation of some of them. I acknowledged that they were
good, but they had a peculiar flavour, which I easily became accustomed
to. These different aliments appeared to me to be rich in phosphorus, and
I thought they must have a marine origin.
Captain Nemo looked at me. I asked him no questions, but he guessed my
thoughts, and answered of his own accord the questions which I was burning
to address to him.
"The greater part of these dishes are unknown to you," he said to me.
"However, you may partake of them without fear. They are wholesome and
nourishing. For a long time I have renounced the food of the earth, and I
am never ill now. My crew, who are healthy, are fed on the same food."
"So," said I, "all these eatables are the produce of the sea?"
"Yes, Professor, the sea supplies all my wants. Sometimes I cast my
nets in tow, and I draw them in ready to break. Sometimes I hunt in the
midst of this element, which appears to be inaccessible to man, and quarry
the game which dwells in my submarine forests. My flocks, like those of
Neptune's old shepherds, graze fearlessly in the immense prairies of the
ocean. I have a vast property there, which I cultivate myself, and which
is always sown by the hand of the Creator of all things."
"I can understand perfectly, sir, that your nets furnish excellent fish
for your table; I can understand also that you hunt aquatic game in your
submarine forests; but I cannot understand at all how a particle of meat,
no matter how small, can figure in your bill of fare."
"This, which you believe to be meat, Professor, is nothing else than
fillet of turtle. Here are also some dolphins' livers, which you take to
be ragout of pork. My cook is a clever fellow, who excels in dressing
these various products of the ocean. Taste all these dishes. Here is a
preserve of sea-cucumber, which a Malay would declare to be unrivalled in
the world; here is a cream, of which the milk has been furnished by the
cetacea, and the sugar by the great fucus of the North Sea; and, lastly,
permit me to offer you some preserve of anemones, which is equal to that
of the most delicious fruits."
I tasted, more from curiosity than as a connoisseur, whilst Captain
Nemo enchanted me with his extraordinary stories.
"You like the sea, Captain?"
"Yes; I love it! The sea is everything. It covers seven tenths of the
terrestrial globe. Its breath is pure and healthy. It is an immense
desert, where man is never lonely, for he feels life stirring on all
sides. The sea is only the embodiment of a supernatural and wonderful
existence. It is nothing but love and emotion; it is the `Living
Infinite,' as one of your poets has said. In fact, Professor, Nature
manifests herself in it by her three kingdoms-mineral, vegetable, and
animal. The sea is the vast reservoir of Nature. The globe began with sea,
so to speak; and who knows if it will not end with it? In it is supreme
tranquillity. The sea does not belong to despots. Upon its surface men can
still exercise unjust laws, fight, tear one another to pieces, and be
carried away with terrestrial horrors. But at thirty feet below its level,
their reign ceases, their influence is quenched, and their power
disappears. Ah! sir, live-live in the bosom of the waters! There only is
independence! There I recognise no masters! There I am free!"
Captain Nemo suddenly became silent in the midst of this enthusiasm, by
which he was quite carried away. For a few moments he paced up and down,
much agitated. Then he became more calm, regained his accustomed coldness
of expression, and turning towards me:
"Now, Professor," said he, "if you wish to go over the Nautilus, I am
at your service."
Captain Nemo rose. I followed him. A double door, contrived at the back
of the dining-room, opened, and I entered a room equal in dimensions to
that which I had just quitted.
It was a library. High pieces of furniture, of black violet ebony
inlaid with brass, supported upon their wide shelves a great number of
books uniformly bound. They followed the shape of the room, terminating at
the lower part in huge divans, covered with brown leather, which were
curved, to afford the greatest comfort. Light movable desks, made to slide
in and out at will, allowed one to rest one's book while reading. In the
centre stood an immense table, covered with pamphlets, amongst which were
some newspapers, already of old date. The electric light flooded
everything; it was shed from four unpolished globes half sunk in the
volutes of the ceiling. I looked with real admiration at this room, so
ingeniously fitted up, and I could scarcely believe my eyes.
"Captain Nemo," said I to my host, who had just thrown himself on one
of the divans, "this is a library which would do honour to more than one
of the continental palaces, and I am absolutely astounded when I consider
that it can follow you to the bottom of the seas."
"Where could one find greater solitude or silence, Professor?" replied
Captain Nemo. "Did your study in the Museum afford you such perfect
quiet?"
"No, sir; and I must confess that it is a very poor one after yours.
You must have six or seven thousand volumes here."
"Twelve thousand, M. Aronnax. These are the only ties which bind me to
the earth. But I had done with the world on the day when my Nautilus
plunged for the first time beneath the waters. That day I bought my last
volumes, my last pamphlets, my last papers, and from that time I wish to
think that men no longer think or write. These books, Professor, are at
your service besides, and you can make use of them freely."
I thanked Captain Nemo, and went up to the shelves of the library.
Works on science, morals, and literature abounded in every language; but I
did not see one single work on political economy; that subject appeared to
be strictly proscribed. Strange to say, all these books were irregularly
arranged, in whatever language they were written; and this medley proved
that the Captain of the Nautilus must have read indiscriminately the books
which he took up by chance.
"Sir," said I to the Captain, "I thank you for having placed this
library at my disposal. It contains treasures of science, and I shall
profit by them."
"This room is not only a library," said Captain Nemo, "it is also a
smoking-room."
"A smoking-room!" I cried. "Then one may smoke on board?"
"Certainly."
"Then, sir, I am forced to believe that you have kept up a
communication with Havannah."
"Not any," answered the Captain. "Accept this cigar, M. Aronnax; and,
though it does not come from Havannah, you will be pleased with it, if you
are a connoisseur."
I took the cigar which was offered me; its shape recalled the London
ones, but it seemed to be made of leaves of gold. I lighted it at a little
brazier, which was supported upon an elegant bronze stem, and drew the
first whiffs with the delight of a lover of smoking who has not smoked for
two days.
"It is excellent, but it is not tobacco."
"No!" answered the Captain, "this tobacco comes neither from Havannah
nor from the East. It is a kind of sea-weed, rich in nicotine, with which
the sea provides me, but somewhat sparingly."
At that moment Captain Nemo opened a door which stood opposite to that
by which I had entered the library, and I passed into an immense
drawing-room splendidly lighted.
It was a vast, four-sided room, thirty feet long, eighteen wide, and
fifteen high. A luminous ceiling, decorated with light arabesques, shed a
soft clear light over all the marvels accumulated in this museum. For it
was in fact a museum, in which an intelligent and prodigal hand had
gathered all the treasures of nature and art, with the artistic confusion
which distinguishes a painter's studio.
{several sentences are missing here in the omnibus edition}
Thirty first-rate pictures, uniformly framed, separated by bright
drapery, ornamented the walls, which were hung with tapestry of severe
design. I saw works of great value, the greater part of which I had
admired in the special collections of Europe, and in the exhibitions of
paintings.
Some admirable statues in marble and bronze, after the finest antique
models, stood upon pedestals in the corners of this magnificent museum.
Amazement, as the Captain of the Nautilus had predicted, had already begun
to take possession of me.
"Professor," said this strange man, "you must excuse the unceremonious
way in which I receive you, and the disorder of this room."
"Sir," I answered, "without seeking to know who you are, I recognise in
you an artist."
"An amateur, nothing more, sir. Formerly I loved to collect these
beautiful works created by the hand of man. I sought them greedily, and
ferreted them out indefatigably, and I have been able to bring together
some objects of great value. These are my last souvenirs of that world
which is dead to me. In my eyes, your modern artists are already old; they
have two or three thousand years of existence; I confound them in my own
mind. Masters have no age."
{4 paragraphs seem to be missing from this omnibus text here they have
to do with musical composers, a piano, and a brief revery on the part of
Nemo}
Under elegant glass cases, fixed by copper rivets, were classed and
labelled the most precious productions of the sea which had ever been
presented to the eye of a naturalist. My delight as a professor may be
conceived.
{2 long paragraphs seem to be missing from this omnibus here}
Apart, in separate compartments, were spread out chaplets of pearls of
the greatest beauty, which reflected the electric light in little sparks
of fire; pink pearls, torn from the pinna-marina of the Red Sea; green
pearls, yellow, blue, and black pearls, the curious productions of the
divers molluscs of every ocean, and certain mussels of the water courses
of the North; lastly, several specimens of inestimable value. Some of
these pearls were larger than a pigeon's egg, and were worth millions.
{this para has been altered the last sentence reworded}
Therefore, to estimate the value of this collection was simply
impossible. Captain Nemo must have expended millions in the acquirement of
these various specimens, and I was thinking what source he could have
drawn from, to have been able thus to gratify his fancy for collecting,
when I was interrupted by these words:
"You are examining my shells, Professor? Unquestionably they must be
interesting to a naturalist; but for me they have a far greater charm, for
I have collected them all with my own hand, and there is not a sea on the
face of the globe which has escaped my researches."
"I can understand, Captain, the delight of wandering about in the midst
of such riches. You are one of those who have collected their treasures
themselves. No museum in Europe possesses such a collection of the produce
of the ocean. But if I exhaust all my admiration upon it, I shall have
none left for the vessel which carries it. I do not wish to pry into your
secrets: but I must confess that this Nautilus, with the motive power
which is confined in it, the contrivances which enable it to be worked,
the powerful agent which propels it, all excite my curiosity to the
highest pitch. I see suspended on the walls of this room instruments of
whose use I am ignorant."
"You will find these same instruments in my own room, Professor, where
I shall have much pleasure in explaining their use to you. But first come
and inspect the cabin which is set apart for your own use. You must see
how you will be accommodated on board the Nautilus."
I followed Captain Nemo who, by one of the doors opening from each
panel of the drawing-room, regained the waist. He conducted me towards the
bow, and there I found, not a cabin, but an elegant room, with a bed,
dressing-table, and several other pieces of excellent furniture.
I could only thank my host.
"Your room adjoins mine," said he, opening a door, "and mine opens into
the drawing-room that we have just quitted."
I entered the Captain's room: it had a severe, almost a monkish aspect.
A small iron bedstead, a table, some articles for the toilet; the whole
lighted by a skylight. No comforts, the strictest necessaries only.
Captain Nemo pointed to a seat.
"Be so good as to sit down," he said. I seated myself, and he began
thus:
Chapter XI. ALL BY ELECTRICITY
"Sir," said Captain Nemo, showing me the instruments hanging on the
walls of his room, "here are the contrivances required for the navigation
of the Nautilus. Here, as in the drawing-room, I have them always under my
eyes, and they indicate my position and exact direction in the middle of
the ocean. Some are known to you, such as the thermometer, which gives the
internal temperature of the Nautilus; the barometer, which indicates the
weight of the air and foretells the changes of the weather; the
hygrometer, which marks the dryness of the atmosphere; the storm-glass,
the contents of which, by decomposing, announce the approach of tempests;
the compass, which guides my course; the sextant, which shows the latitude
by the altitude of the sun; chronometers, by which I calculate the
longitude; and glasses for day and night, which I use to examine the
points of the horizon, when the Nautilus rises to the surface of the
waves."
"These are the usual nautical instruments," I replied, "and I know the
use of them. But these others, no doubt, answer to the particular
requirements of the Nautilus. This dial with movable needle is a
manometer, is it not?"
"It is actually a manometer. But by communication with the water, whose
external pressure it indicates, it gives our depth at the same time."
"And these other instruments, the use of which I cannot guess?"
"Here, Professor, I ought to give you some explanations. Will you be
kind enough to listen to me?"
He was silent for a few moments, then he said:
"There is a powerful agent, obedient, rapid, easy, which conforms to
every use, and reigns supreme on board my vessel. Everything is done by
means of it. It lights, warms it, and is the soul of my mechanical
apparatus. This agent is electricity."
"Electricity?" I cried in surprise.
"Yes, sir."
"Nevertheless, Captain, you possess an extreme rapidity of movement,
which does not agree well with the power of electricity. Until now, its
dynamic force has remained under restraint, and has only been able to
produce a small amount of power."
"Professor," said Captain Nemo, "my electricity is not everybody's. You
know what sea-water is composed of. In a thousand grammes are found 96 1/2
per cent. of water, and about 2 2/3 per cent. of chloride of sodium; then,
in a smaller quantity, chlorides of magnesium and of potassium, bromide of
magnesium, sulphate of magnesia, sulphate and carbonate of lime. You see,
then, that chloride of sodium forms a large part of it. So it is this
sodium that I extract from the sea-water, and of which I compose my
ingredients. I owe all to the ocean; it produces electricity, and
electricity gives heat, light, motion, and, in a word, life to the
Nautilus."
"But not the air you breathe?"
"Oh! I could manufacture the air necessary for my consumption, but it
is useless, because I go up to the surface of the water when I please.
However, if electricity does not furnish me with air to breathe, it works
at least the powerful pumps that are stored in spacious reservoirs, and
which enable me to prolong at need, and as long as I will, my stay in the
depths of the sea. It gives a uniform and unintermittent light, which the
sun does not. Now look at this clock; it is electrical, and goes with a
regularity that defies the best chronometers. I have divided it into
twenty-four hours, like the Italian clocks, because for me there is
neither night nor day, sun nor moon, but only that factitious light that I
take with me to the bottom of the sea. Look! just now, it is ten o'clock
in the morning."
"Exactly."
"Another application of electricity. This dial hanging in front of us
indicates the speed of the Nautilus. An electric thread puts it in
communication with the screw, and the needle indicates the real speed.
Look! now we are spinning along with a uniform speed of fifteen miles an
hour."
"It is marvelous! And I see, Captain, you were right to make use of
this agent that takes the place of wind, water, and steam."
"We have not finished, M. Aronnax," said Captain Nemo, rising. "If you
will allow me, we will examine the stern of the Nautilus."
Really, I knew already the anterior part of this submarine boat, of
which this is the exact division, starting from the ship's head: the
dining-room, five yards long, separated from the library by a water-tight
partition; the library, five yards long; the large drawing-room, ten yards
long, separated from the Captain's room by a second water-tight partition;
the said room, five yards in length; mine, two and a half yards; and,
lastly a reservoir of air, seven and a half yards, that extended to the
bows. Total length thirty five yards, or one hundred and five feet. The
partitions had doors that were shut hermetically by means of india-rubber
instruments, and they ensured the safety of the Nautilus in case of a
leak.
I followed Captain Nemo through the waist, and arrived at the centre of
the boat. There was a sort of well that opened between two partitions. An
iron ladder, fastened with an iron hook to the partition, led to the upper
end. I asked the Captain what the ladder was used for.
"It leads to the small boat," he said.
"What! have you a boat?" I exclaimed, in surprise.
"Of course; an excellent vessel, light and insubmersible, that serves
either as a fishing or as a pleasure boat."
"But then, when you wish to embark, you are obliged to come to the
surface of the water?"
"Not at all. This boat is attached to the upper part of the hull of the
Nautilus, and occupies a cavity made for it. It is decked, quite
water-tight, and held together by solid bolts. This ladder leads to a
man-hole made in the hull of the Nautilus, that corresponds with a similar
hole made in the side of the boat. By this double opening I get into the
small vessel. They shut the one belonging to the Nautilus; I shut the
other by means of screw pressure. I undo the bolts, and the little boat
goes up to the surface of the sea with prodigious rapidity. I then open
the panel of the bridge, carefully shut till then; I mast it, hoist my
sail, take my oars, and I'm off."
"But how do you get back on board?"
"I do not come back, M. Aronnax; the Nautilus comes to me."
"By your orders?"
"By my orders. An electric thread connects us. I telegraph to it, and
that is enough."
"Really," I said, astonished at these marvels, "nothing can be more
simple."
After having passed by the cage of the staircase that led to the
platform, I saw a cabin six feet long, in which Conseil and Ned Land,
enchanted with their repast, were devouring it with avidity. Then a door
opened into a kitchen nine feet long, situated between the large
store-rooms. There electricity, better than gas itself, did all the
cooking. The streams under the furnaces gave out to the sponges of platina
a heat which was regularly kept up and distributed. They also heated a
distilling apparatus, which, by evaporation, furnished excellent drinkable
water. Near this kitchen was a bathroom comfortably furnished, with hot
and cold water taps.
Next to the kitchen was the berth-room of the vessel, sixteen feet
long. But the door was shut, and I could not see the management of it,
which might have given me an idea of the number of men employed on board
the Nautilus.
At the bottom was a fourth partition that separated this office from
the engine-room. A door opened, and I found myself in the compartment
where Captain Nemo-certainly an engineer of a very high order-had arranged
his locomotive machinery. This engine-room, clearly lighted, did not
measure less than sixty-five feet in length. It was divided into two
parts; the first contained the materials for producing electricity, and
the second the machinery that connected it with the screw. I examined it
with great interest, in order to understand the machinery of the Nautilus.
"You see," said the Captain, "I use Bunsen's contrivances, not
Ruhmkorff's. Those would not have been powerful enough. Bunsen's are fewer
in number, but strong and large, which experience proves to be the best.
The electricity produced passes forward, where it works, by
electro-magnets of great size, on a system of levers and cog-wheels that
transmit the movement to the axle of the screw. This one, the diameter of
which is nineteen feet, and the thread twenty-three feet, performs about
120 revolutions in a second."
"And you get then?"
"A speed of fifty miles an hour."
"I have seen the Nautilus manoeuvre before the Abraham Lincoln, and I
have my own ideas as to its speed. But this is not enough. We must see
where we go. We must be able to direct it to the right, to the left,
above, below. How do you get to the great depths, where you find an
increasing resistance, which is rated by hundreds of atmospheres? How do
you return to the surface of the ocean? And how do you maintain yourselves
in the requisite medium? Am I asking too much?"
"Not at all, Professor," replied the Captain, with some hesitation;
"since you may never leave this submarine boat. Come into the saloon, it
is our usual study, and there you will learn all you want to know about
the Nautilus."
Chapter XII. SOME FIGURES
A moment after we were seated on a divan in the saloon smoking. The
Captain showed me a sketch that gave the plan, section, and elevation of
the Nautilus. Then he began his description in these words:
"Here, M. Aronnax, are the several dimensions of the boat you are in.
It is an elongated cylinder with conical ends. It is very like a cigar in
shape, a shape already adopted in London in several constructions of the
same sort. The length of this cylinder, from stem to stern, is exactly 232
feet, and its maximum breadth is twenty-six feet. It is not built quite
like your long-voyage steamers, but its lines are sufficiently long, and
its curves prolonged enough, to allow the water to slide off easily, and
oppose no obstacle to its passage. These two dimensions enable you to
obtain by a simple calculation the surface and cubic contents of the
Nautilus. Its area measures 6,032 feet; and its contents about 1,500 cubic
yards; that is to say, when completely immersed it displaces 50,000 feet
of water, or weighs 1,500 tons.
"When I made the plans for this submarine vessel, I meant that
nine-tenths should be submerged: consequently it ought only to displace
nine-tenths of its bulk, that is to say, only to weigh that number of
tons. I ought not, therefore, to have exceeded that weight, constructing
it on the aforesaid dimensions.
"The Nautilus is composed of two hulls, one inside, the other outside,
joined by T-shaped irons, which render it very strong. Indeed, owing to
this cellular arrangement it resists like a block, as if it were solid.
Its sides cannot yield; it coheres spontaneously, and not by the closeness
of its rivets; and its perfect union of the materials enables it to defy
the roughest seas.
"These two hulls are composed of steel plates, whose density is from .7
to .8 that of water. The first is not less than two inches and a half
thick and weighs 394 tons. The second envelope, the keel, twenty inches
high and ten thick, weighs only sixty-two tons. The engine, the ballast,
the several accessories and apparatus appendages, the partitions and
bulkheads, weigh 961.62 tons. Do you follow all this?"
"I do."
"Then, when the Nautilus is afloat under these circumstances, one-tenth
is out of the water. Now, if I have made reservoirs of a size equal to
this tenth, or capable of holding 150 tons, and if I fill them with water,
the boat, weighing then 1,507 tons, will be completely immersed. That
would happen, Professor. These reservoirs are in the lower part of the
Nautilus. I turn on taps and they fill, and the vessel sinks that had just
been level with the surface."
"Well, Captain, but now we come to the real difficulty. I can
understand your rising to the surface; but, diving below the surface, does
not your submarine contrivance encounter a pressure, and consequently
undergo an upward thrust of one atmosphere for every thirty feet of water,
just about fifteen pounds per square inch?"
"Just so, sir."
"Then, unless you quite fill the Nautilus, I do not see how you can
draw it down to those depths."
"Professor, you must not confound statics with dynamics or you will be
exposed to grave errors. There is very little labour spent in attaining
the lower regions of the ocean, for all bodies have a tendency to sink.
When I wanted to find out the necessary increase of weight required to
sink the Nautilus, I had only to calculate the reduction of volume that
sea-water acquires according to the depth."
"That is evident."
"Now, if water is not absolutely incompressible, it is at least capable
of very slight compression. Indeed, after the most recent calculations
this reduction is only .000436 of an atmosphere for each thirty feet of
depth. If we want to sink 3,000 feet, I should keep account of the
reduction of bulk under a pressure equal to that of a column of water of a
thousand feet. The calculation is easily verified. Now, I have
supplementary reservoirs capable of holding a hundred tons. Therefore I
can sink to a considerable depth. When I wish to rise to the level of the
sea, I only let off the water, and empty all the reservoirs if I want the
Nautilus to emerge from the tenth part of her total capacity."
I had nothing to object to these reasonings.
"I admit your calculations, Captain," I replied; "I should be wrong to
dispute them since daily experience confirms them; but I foresee a real
difficulty in the way."
"What, sir?"
"When you are about 1,000 feet deep, the walls of the Nautilus bear a
pressure of 100 atmospheres. If, then, just now you were to empty the
supplementary reservoirs, to lighten the vessel, and to go up to the
surface, the pumps must overcome the pressure of 100 atmospheres, which is
1,500 lbs. per square inch. From that a power-"
"That electricity alone can give," said the Captain, hastily. "I
repeat, sir, that the dynamic power of my engines is almost infinite. The
pumps of the Nautilus have an enormous power, as you must have observed
when their jets of water burst like a torrent upon the Abraham Lincoln.
Besides, I use subsidiary reservoirs only to attain a mean depth of 750 to
1,000 fathoms, and that with a view of managing my machines. Also, when I
have a mind to visit the depths of the ocean five or six mlles below the
surface, I make use of slower but not less infallible means."
"What are they, Captain?"
"That involves my telling you how the Nautilus is worked."
"I am impatient to learn."
"To steer this boat to starboard or port, to turn, in a word, following
a horizontal plan, I use an ordinary rudder fixed on the back of the
stern-post, and with one wheel and some tackle to steer by. But I can also
make the Nautilus rise and sink, and sink and rise, by a vertical movement
by means of two inclined planes fastened to its sides, opposite the centre
of flotation, planes that move in every direction, and that are worked by
powerful levers from the interior. If the planes are kept parallel with
the boat, it moves horizontally. If slanted, the Nautilus, according to
this inclination, and under the influence of the screw, either sinks
diagonally or rises diagonally as it suits me. And even if I wish to rise
more quickly to the surface, I ship the screw, and the pressure of the
water causes the Nautilus to rise vertically like a balloon filled with
hydrogen."
"Bravo, Captain! But how can the steersman follow the route in the
middle of the waters?"
"The steersman is placed in a glazed box, that is raised about the hull
of the Nautilus, and furnished with lenses."
"Are these lenses capable of resisting such pressure?"
"Perfectly. Glass, which breaks at a blow, is, nevertheless, capable of
offering considerable resistance. During some experiments of fishing by
electric light in 1864 in the Northern Seas, we saw plates less than a
third of an inch thick resist a pressure of sixteen atmospheres. Now, the
glass that I use is not less than thirty times thicker."
"Granted. But, after all, in order to see, the light must exceed the
darkness, and in the midst of the darkness in the water, how can you see?"
"Behind the steersman's cage is placed a powerful electric reflector,
the rays from which light up the sea for half a mile in front."
"Ah! bravo, bravo, Captain! Now I can account for this phosphorescence
in the supposed narwhal that puzzled us so. I now ask you if the boarding
of the Nautilus and of the Scotia, that has made such a noise, has been
the result of a chance rencontre?"
"Quite accidental, sir. I was sailing only one fathom below the surface
of the water when the shock came. It had no bad result."
"None, sir. But now, about your rencontre with the Abraham Lincoln?"
"Professor, I am sorry for one of the best vessels in the American
navy; but they attacked me, and I was bound to defend myself. I contented
myself, however, with putting the frigate hors de combat; she will not
have any difficulty in getting repaired at the next port."
"Ah, Commander! your Nautilus is certainly a marvellous boat."
"Yes, Professor; and I love it as if it were part of myself. If danger
threatens one of your vessels on the ocean, the first impression is the
feeling of an abyss above and below. On the Nautilus men's hearts never
fail them. No defects to be afraid of, for the double shell is as firm as
iron; no rigging to attend to; no sails for the wind to carry away; no
boilers to burst; no fire to fear, for the vessel is made of iron, not of
wood; no coal to run short, for electricity is the only mechanical agent;
no collision to fear, for it alone swims in deep water; no tempest to
brave, for when it dives below the water it reaches absolute tranquillity.
There, sir! that is the perfection of vessels! And if it is true that the
engineer has more confidence in the vessel than the builder, and the
builder than the captain himself, you understand the trust I repose in my
Nautilus; for I am at once captain, builder, and engineer."
"But how could you construct this wonderful Nautilus in secret?"
"Each separate portion, M. Aronnax, was brought from different parts of
the globe."
"But these parts had to be put together and arranged?"
"Professor, I had set up my workshops upon a desert island in the
ocean. There my workmen, that is to say, the brave men that I instructed
and educated, and myself have put together our Nautilus. Then, when the
work was finished, fire destroyed all trace of our proceedings on this
island, that I could have jumped over if I had liked."
"Then the cost of this vessel is great?"
"M. Aronnax, an iron vessel costs L145 per ton. Now the Nautilus
weighed 1,500. It came therefore to L67,500, and L80,000 more for fitting
it up, and about L200,000, with the works of art and the collections it
contains."
"One last question, Captain Nemo."
"Ask it, Professor."
"You are rich?"
"Immensely rich, sir; and I could, without missing it, pay the national
debt of France."
I stared at the singular person who spoke thus. Was he playing upon my
credulity? The future would decide that.
Chapter XIII. THE BLACK RIVER
The portion of the terrestrial globe which is covered by water is
estimated at upwards of eighty millions of acres. This fluid mass
comprises two billions two hundred and fifty millions of cubic miles,
forming a spherical body of a diameter of sixty leagues, the weight of
which would be three quintillions of tons. To comprehend the meaning of
these figures, it is necessary to observe that a quintillion is to a
billion as a billion is to unity; in other words, there are as many
billions in a quintillion as there are units in a billion. This mass of
fluid is equal to about the quantity of water which would be discharged by
all the rivers of the earth in forty thousand years.
During the geological epochs the ocean originally prevailed everywhere.
Then by degrees, in the silurian period, the tops of the mountains began
to appear, the islands emerged, then disappeared in partial deluges,
reappeared, became settled, formed continents, till at length the earth
became geographically arranged, as we see in the present day. The solid
had wrested from the liquid thirty-seven million six hundred and
fifty-seven square miles, equal to twelve billions nine hundred and sixty
millions of acres.
The shape of continents allows us to divide the waters into five great
portions: the Arctic or Frozen Ocean, the Antarctic, or Frozen Ocean, the
Indian, the Atlantic, and the Pacific Oceans.
The Pacific Ocean extends from north to south between the two Polar
Circles, and from east to west between Asia and America, over an extent of
145 degrees of longitude. It is the quietest of seas; its currents are
broad and slow, it has medium tides, and abundant rain. Such was the ocean
that my fate destined me first to travel over under these strange
conditions.
"Sir," said Captain Nemo, "we will, if you please, take our bearings
and fix the starting-point of this voyage. It is a quarter to twelve; I
will go up again to the surface."
The Captain pressed an electric clock three times. The pumps began to
drive the water from the tanks; the needle of the manometer marked by a
different pressure the ascent of the Nautilus, then it stopped.
"We have arrived," said the Captain.
I went to the central staircase which opened on to the platform,
clambered up the iron steps, and found myself on the upper part of the
Nautilus.
The platform was only three feet out of water. The front and back of
the Nautilus was of that spindle-shape which caused it justly to be
compared to a cigar. I noticed that its iron plates, slightly overlaying
each other, resembled the shell which clothes the bodies of our large
terrestrial reptiles. It explained to me how natural it was, in spite of
all glasses, that this boat should have been taken for a marine animal.
Toward the middle of the platform the longboat, half buried in the hull
of the vessel, formed a slight excrescence. Fore and aft rose two cages of
medium height with inclined sides, and partly closed by thick lenticular
glasses; one destined for the steersman who directed the Nautilus, the
other containing a brilliant lantern to give light on the road.
The sea was beautiful, the sky pure. Scarcely could the long vehicle
feel the broad undulations of the ocean. A light breeze from the east
rippled the surface of the waters. The horizon, free from fog, made
observation easy. Nothing was in sight. Not a quicksand, not an island. A
vast desert.
Captain Nemo, by the help of his sextant, took the altitude of the sun,
which ought also to give the latitude. He waited for some moments till its
disc touched the horizon. Whilst taking observations not a muscle moved,
the instrument could not have been more motionless in a hand of marble.
"Twelve o'clock, sir," said he. "When you like-"
I cast a last look upon the sea, slightly yellowed by the Japanese
coast, and descended to the saloon.
"And now, sir, I leave you to your studies," added the Captain; "our
course is E.N.E., our depth is twenty-six fathoms. Here are maps on a
large scale by which you may follow it. The saloon is at your disposal,
and, with your permission, I will retire." Captain Nemo bowed, and I
remained alone, lost in thoughts all bearing on the commander of the
Nautilus.
For a whole hour was I deep in these reflections, seeking to pierce
this mystery so interesting to me. Then my eyes fell upon the vast
planisphere spread upon the table, and I placed my finger on the very spot
where the given latitude and longitude crossed.
The sea has its large rivers like the continents. They are special
currents known by their temperature and their colour. The most remarkable
of these is known by the name of the Gulf Stream. Science has decided on
the globe the direction of five principal currents: one in the North
Atlantic, a second in the South, a third in the North Pacific, a fourth in
the South, and a fifth in the Southern Indian Ocean. It is even probable
that a sixth current existed at one time or another in the Northern Indian
Ocean, when the Caspian and Aral Seas formed but one vast sheet of water.
At this point indicated on the planisphere one of these currents was
rolling, the Kuro-Scivo of the Japanese, the Black River, which, leaving
the Gulf of Bengal, where it is warmed by the perpendicular rays of a
tropical sun, crosses the Straits of Malacca along the coast of Asia,
turns into the North Pacific to the Aleutian Islands, carrying with it
trunks of camphor-trees and other indigenous productions, and edging the
waves of the ocean with the pure indigo of its warm water. It was this
current that the Nautilus was to follow. I followed it with my eye; saw it
lose itself in the vastness of the Pacific, and felt myself drawn with it,
when Ned Land and Conseil appeared at the door of the saloon.
My two brave companions remained petrified at the sight of the wonders
spread before them.
"Where are we, where are we?" exclaimed the Canadian. "In the museum at
Quebec?"
"My friends," I answered, making a sign for them to enter, "you are not
in Canada, but on board the Nautilus, fifty yards below the level of the
sea."
"But, M. Aronnax," said Ned Land, "can you tell me how many men there
are on board? Ten, twenty, fifty, a hundred?"
"I cannot answer you, Mr. Land; it is better to abandon for a time all
idea of seizing the Nautilus or escaping from it. This ship is a
masterpiece of modern industry, and I should be sorry not to have seen it.
Many people would accept the situation forced upon us, if only to move
amongst such wonders. So be quiet and let us try and see what passes
around us."
"See!" exclaimed the harpooner, "but we can see nothing in this iron
prison! We are walking-we are sailing-blindly."
Ned Land had scarcely pronounced these words when all was suddenly
darkness. The luminous ceiling was gone, and so rapidly that my eyes
received a painful impression.
We remained mute, not stirring, and not knowing what surprise awaited
us, whether agreeable or disagreeable. A sliding noise was heard: one
would have said that panels were working at the sides of the Nautilus.
"It is the end of the end!" said Ned Land.
Suddenly light broke at each side of the saloon, through two oblong
openings. The liquid mass appeared vividly lit up by the electric gleam.
Two crystal plates separated us from the sea. At first I trembled at the
thought that this frail partition might break, but strong bands of copper
bound them, giving an almost infinite power of resistance.
The sea was distinctly visible for a mile all round the Nautilus. What
a spectacle! What pen can describe it? Who could paint the effects of the
light through those transparent sheets of water, and the softness of the
successive gradations from the lower to the superior strata of the ocean?
We know the transparency of the sea and that its clearness is far
beyond that of rock-water. The mineral and organic substances which it
holds in suspension heightens its transparency. In certain parts of the
ocean at the Antilles, under seventy-five fathoms of water, can be seen
with surprising clearness a bed of sand. The penetrating power of the
solar rays does not seem to cease for a depth of one hundred and fifty
fathoms. But in this middle fluid travelled over by the Nautilus, the
electric brightness was produced even in the bosom of the waves. It was no
longer luminous water, but liquid light.
On each side a window opened into this unexplored abyss. The obscurity
of the saloon showed to advantage the brightness outside, and we looked
out as if this pure crystal had been the glass of an immense aquarium.
"You wished to see, friend Ned; well, you see now."
"Curious! curious!" muttered the Canadian, who, forgetting his
ill-temper, seemed to submit to some irresistible attraction; "and one
would come further than this to admire such a sight!"
"Ah!" thought I to myself, "I understand the life of this man; he has
made a world apart for himself, in which he treasures all his greatest
wonders."
For two whole hours an aquatic army escorted the Nautilus. During their
games, their bounds, while rivalling each other in beauty, brightness, and
velocity, I distinguished the green labre; the banded mullet, marked by a
double line of black; the round-tailed goby, of a white colour, with
violet spots on the back; the Japanese scombrus, a beautiful mackerel of
these seas, with a blue body and silvery head; the brilliant azurors,
whose name alone defies description; some banded spares, with variegated
fins of blue and yellow; the woodcocks of the seas, some specimens of
which attain a yard in length; Japanese salamanders, spider lampreys,
serpents six feet long, with eyes small and lively, and a huge mouth
bristling with teeth; with many other species.
Our imagination was kept at its height, interjections followed quickly
on each other. Ned named the fish, and Conseil classed them. I was in
ecstasies with the vivacity of their movements and the beauty of their
forms. Never had it been given to me to surprise these animals, alive and
at liberty, in their natural element. I will not mention all the varieties
which passed before my dazzled eyes, all the collection of the seas of
China and Japan. These fish, more numerous than the birds of the air,
came, attracted, no doubt, by the brilliant focus of the electric light.
Suddenly there was daylight in the saloon, the iron panels closed
again, and the enchanting vision disappeared. But for a long time I dreamt
on, till my eyes fell on the instruments hanging on the partition. The
compass still showed the course to be E.N.E., the manometer indicated a
pressure of five atmospheres, equivalent to a depth of twenty five
fathoms, and the electric log gave a speed of fifteen miles an hour. I
expected Captain Nemo, but he did not appear. The clock marked the hour of
five.
Ned Land and Conseil returned to their cabin, and I retired to my
chamber. My dinner was ready. It was composed of turtle soup made of the
most delicate hawks bills, of a surmullet served with puff paste (the
liver of which, prepared by itself, was most delicious), and fillets of
the emperor-holocanthus, the savour of which seemed to me superior even to
salmon.
I passed the evening reading, writing, and thinking. Then sleep
overpowered me, and I stretched myself on my couch of zostera, and slept
profoundly, whilst the Nautilus was gliding rapidly through the current of
the Black River.
Chapter XIV. A NOTE OF INVITATION
The next day was the 9th of November. I awoke after a long sleep of
twelve hours. Conseil came, according to custom, to know "how I passed the
night," and to offer his services. He had left his friend the Canadian
sleeping like a man who had never done anything else all his life. I let
the worthy fellow chatter as he pleased, without caring to answer him. I
was preoccupied by the absence of the Captain during our sitting of the
day before, and hoping to see him to-day.
As soon as I was dressed I went into the saloon. It was deserted. I
plunged into the study of the shell treasures hidden behind the glasses.
The whole day passed without my being honoured by a visit from Captain
Nemo. The panels of the saloon did not open. Perhaps they did not wish us
to tire of these beautiful things.
The course of the Nautilus was E.N.E., her speed twelve knots, the
depth below the surface between twenty-five and thirty fathoms.
The next day, 10th of November, the same desertion, the same solitude.
I did not see one of the ship's crew: Ned and Conseil spent the greater
part of the day with me. They were astonished at the puzzling absence of
the Captain. Was this singular man ill?-had he altered his intentions with
regard to us?
After all, as Conseil said, we enjoyed perfect liberty, we were
delicately and abundantly fed. Our host kept to his terms of the treaty.
We could not complain, and, indeed, the singularity of our fate reserved
such wonderful compensation for us that we had no right to accuse it as
yet.
That day I commenced the journal of these adventures which has enabled
me to relate them with more scrupulous exactitude and minute detail.
11th November, early in the morning. The fresh air spreading over the
interior of the Nautilus told me that we had come to the surface of the
ocean to renew our supply of oxygen. I directed my steps to the central
staircase, and mounted the platform.
It was six o'clock, the weather was cloudy, the sea grey, but calm.
Scarcely a billow. Captain Nemo, whom I hoped to meet, would he be there?
I saw no one but the steersman imprisoned in his glass cage. Seated upon
the projection formed by the hull of the pinnace, I inhaled the salt
breeze with delight.
By degrees the fog disappeared under the action of the sun's rays, the
radiant orb rose from behind the eastern horizon. The sea flamed under its
glance like a train of gunpowder. The clouds scattered in the heights were
coloured with lively tints of beautiful shades, and numerous "mare's
tails," which betokened wind for that day. But what was wind to this
Nautilus, which tempests could not frighten!
I was admiring this joyous rising of the sun, so gay, and so
life-giving, when I heard steps approaching the platform. I was prepared
to salute Captain Nemo, but it was his second (whom I had already seen on
the Captain's first visit) who appeared. He advanced on the platform, not
seeming to see me. With his powerful glass to his eye, he scanned every
point of the horizon with great attention. This examination over, he
approached the panel and pronounced a sentence in exactly these terms. I
have remembered it, for every morning it was repeated under exactly the
same conditions. It was thus worded:
"Nautron respoc lorni virch."
What it meant I could not say.
These words pronounced, the second descended. I thought that the
Nautilus was about to return to its submarine navigation. I regained the
panel and returned to my chamber.
Five days sped thus, without any change in our situation. Every morning
I mounted the platform. The same phrase was pronounced by the same
individual. But Captain Nemo did not appear.
I had made up my mind that I should never see him again, when, on the
16th November, on returning to my room with Ned and Conseil, I found upon
my table a note addressed to me. I opened it impatiently. It was written
in a bold, clear hand, the characters rather pointed, recalling the German
type. The note was worded as follows:
TO PROFESSOR ARONNAX, On board the Nautilus. 16th of November, 1867.
Captain Nemo invites Professor Aronnax to a hunting-party, which will
take place to-morrow morning in the forests of the Island of Crespo. He
hopes that nothing will prevent the Professor from being present, and he
will with pleasure see him joined by his companions.
CAPTAIN NEMO, Commander of the Nautilus.
"A hunt!" exclaimed Ned.
"And in the forests of the Island of Crespo!" added Conseil.
"Oh! then the gentleman is going on terra firma?" replied Ned Land.
"That seems to me to be clearly indicated," said I, reading the letter
once more.
"Well, we must accept," said the Canadian. "But once more on dry
ground, we shall know what to do. Indeed, I shall not be sorry to eat a
piece of fresh venison."
Without seeking to reconcile what was contradictory between Captain
Nemo's manifest aversion to islands and continents, and his invitation to
hunt in a forest, I contented myself with replying:
"Let us first see where the Island of Crespo is."
I consulted the planisphere, and in 32O 40' N. lat. and 157O 50' W.
long., I found a small island, recognised in 1801 by Captain Crespo, and
marked in the ancient Spanish maps as Rocca de la Plata, the meaning of
which is The Silver Rock. We were then about eighteen hundred miles from
our starting-point, and the course of the Nautilus, a little changed, was
bringing it back towards the southeast.
I showed this little rock, lost in the midst of the North Pacific, to
my companions.
"If Captain Nemo does sometimes go on dry ground," said I, "he at least
chooses desert islands."
Ned Land shrugged his shoulders without speaking, and Conseil and he
left me.
After supper, which was served by the steward, mute and impassive, I
went to bed, not without some anxiety.
The next morning, the 17th of November, on awakening, I felt that the
Nautilus was perfectly still. I dressed quickly and entered the saloon.
Captain Nemo was there, waiting for me. He rose, bowed, and asked me if
it was convenient for me to accompany him. As he made no allusion to his
absence during the last eight days, I did not mention it, and simply
answered that my companions and myself were ready to follow him.
We entered the dining-room, where breakfast was served.
"M. Aronnax," said the Captain, "pray, share my breakfast without
ceremony; we will chat as we eat. For, though I promised you a walk in the
forest, I did not undertake to find hotels there. So breakfast as a man
who will most likely not have his dinner till very late."
I did honour to the repast. It was composed of several kinds of fish,
and slices of sea-cucumber, and different sorts of seaweed. Our drink
consisted of pure water, to which the Captain added some drops of a
fermented liquor, extracted by the Kamschatcha method from a seaweed known
under the name of Rhodomenia palmata. Captain Nemo ate at first without
saying a word. Then he began:
"Sir, when I proposed to you to hunt in my submarine forest of Crespo,
you evidently thought me mad. Sir, you should never judge lightly of any
man."
"But Captain, believe me-"
"Be kind enough to listen, and you will then see whether you have any
cause to accuse me of folly and contradiction."
"I listen."
"You know as well as I do, Professor, that man can live under water,
providing he carries with him a sufficient supply of breathable air. In
submarine works, the workman, clad in an impervious dress, with his head
in a metal helmet, receives air from above by means of forcing pumps and
regulators."
"That is a diving apparatus," said I.
"Just so, but under these conditions the man is not at liberty; he is
attached to the pump which sends him air through an india-rubber tube, and
if we were obliged to be thus held to the Nautilus, we could not go far."
"And the means of getting free?" I asked.
"It is to use the Rouquayrol apparatus, invented by two of your own
countrymen, which I have brought to perfection for my own use, and which
will allow you to risk yourself under these new physiological conditions
without any organ whatever suffering. It consists of a reservoir of thick
iron plates, in which I store the air under a pressure of fifty
atmospheres. This reservoir is fixed on the back by means of braces, like
a soldier's knapsack. Its upper part forms a box in which the air is kept
by means of a bellows, and therefore cannot escape unless at its normal
tension. In the Rouquayrol apparatus such as we use, two india rubber
pipes leave this box and join a sort of tent which holds the nose and
mouth; one is to introduce fresh air, the other to let out the foul, and
the tongue closes one or the other according to the wants of the
respirator. But I, in encountering great pressures at the bottom of the
sea, was obliged to shut my head, like that of a diver in a ball of
copper; and it is to this ball of copper that the two pipes, the
inspirator and the expirator, open."
"Perfectly, Captain Nemo; but the air that you carry with you must soon
be used; when it only contains fifteen per cent. of oxygen it is no longer
fit to breathe."
"Right! But I told you, M. Aronnax, that the pumps of the Nautilus
allow me to store the air under considerable pressure, and on those
conditions the reservoir of the apparatus can furnish breathable air for
nine or ten hours."
"I have no further objections to make," I answered. "I will only ask
you one thing, Captain-how can you light your road at the bottom of the
sea?"
"With the Ruhmkorff apparatus, M. Aronnax; one is carried on the back,
the other is fastened to the waist. It is composed of a Bunsen pile, which
I do not work with bichromate of potash, but with sodium. A wire is
introduced which collects the electricity produced, and directs it towards
a particularly made lantern. In this lantern is a spiral glass which
contains a small quantity of carbonic gas. When the apparatus is at work
this gas becomes luminous, giving out a white and continuous light. Thus
provided, I can breathe and I can see."
"Captain Nemo, to all my objections you make such crushing answers that
I dare no longer doubt. But, if I am forced to admit the Rouquayrol and
Ruhmkorff apparatus, I must be allowed some reservations with regard to
the gun I am to carry."
"But it is not a gun for powder," answered the Captain.
"Then it is an air-gun."
"Doubtless! How would you have me manufacture gun powder on board,
without either saltpetre, sulphur, or charcoal?"
"Besides," I added, "to fire under water in a medium eight hundred and
fifty-five times denser than the air, we must conquer very considerable
resistance."
"That would be no difficulty. There exist guns, according to Fulton,
perfected in England by Philip Coles and Burley, in France by Furcy, and
in Italy by Landi, which are furnished with a peculiar system of closing,
which can fire under these conditions. But I repeat, having no powder, I
use air under great pressure, which the pumps of the Nautilus furnish
abundantly."
"But this air must be rapidly used?"
"Well, have I not my Rouquayrol reservoir, which can furnish it at
need? A tap is all that is required. Besides M. Aronnax, you must see
yourself that, during our submarine hunt, we can spend but little air and
but few balls."
"But it seems to me that in this twilight, and in the midst of this
fluid, which is very dense compared with the atmosphere, shots could not
go far, nor easily prove mortal."
"Sir, on the contrary, with this gun every blow is mortal; and, however
lightly the animal is touched, it falls as if struck by a thunderbolt."
"Why?"
"Because the balls sent by this gun are not ordinary balls, but little
cases of glass. These glass cases are covered with a case of steel, and
weighted with a pellet of lead; they are real Leyden bottles, into which
the electricity is forced to a very high tension. With the slightest shock
they are discharged, and the animal, however strong it may be, falls dead.
I must tell you that these cases are size number four, and that the charge
for an ordinary gun would be ten."
"I will argue no longer," I replied, rising from the table. "I have
nothing left me but to take my gun. At all events, I will go where you
go."
Captain Nemo then led me aft; and in passing before Ned's and Conseil's
cabin, I called my two companions, who followed promptly. We then came to
a cell near the machinery-room, in which we put on our walking-dress.
Chapter XV. A WALK ON THE BOTTOM OF THE SEA
This cell was, to speak correctly, the arsenal and wardrobe of the
Nautilus. A dozen diving apparatuses hung from the partition waiting our
use.
Ned Land, on seeing them, showed evident repugnance to dress himself in
one.
"But, my worthy Ned, the forests of the Island of Crespo are nothing
but submarine forests."
"Good!" said the disappointed harpooner, who saw his dreams of fresh
meat fade away. "And you, M. Aronnax, are you going to dress yourself in
those clothes?"
"There is no alternative, Master Ned."
"As you please, sir," replied the harpooner, shrugging his shoulders;
"but, as for me, unless I am forced, I will never get into one."
"No one will force you, Master Ned," said Captain Nemo.
"Is Conseil going to risk it?" asked Ned.
"I follow my master wherever he goes," replied Conseil.
At the Captain's call two of the ship's crew came to help us dress in
these heavy and impervious clothes, made of india-rubber without seam, and
constructed expressly to resist considerable pressure. One would have
thought it a suit of armour, both supple and resisting. This suit formed
trousers and waistcoat. The trousers were finished off with thick boots,
weighted with heavy leaden soles. The texture of the waistcoat was held
together by bands of copper, which crossed the chest, protecting it from
the great pressure of the water, and leaving the lungs free to act; the
sleeves ended in gloves, which in no way restrained the movement of the
hands. There was a vast difference noticeable between these consummate
apparatuses and the old cork breastplates, jackets, and other contrivances
in vogue during the eighteenth century.
Captain Nemo and one of his companions (a sort of Hercules, who must
have possessed great strength), Conseil and myself were soon enveloped in
the dresses. There remained nothing more to be done but to enclose our
heads in the metal box. But, before proceeding to this operation, I asked
the Captain's permission to examine the guns.
One of the Nautilus men gave me a simple gun, the butt end of which,
made of steel, hollow in the centre, was rather large. It served as a
reservoir for compressed air, which a valve, worked by a spring, allowed
to escape into a metal tube. A box of projectiles in a groove in the
thickness of the butt end contained about twenty of these electric balls,
which, by means of a spring, were forced into the barrel of the gun. As
soon as one shot was fired, another was ready.
"Captain Nemo," said I, "this arm is perfect, and easily handled: I
only ask to be allowed to try it. But how shall we gain the bottom of the
sea?"
"At this moment, Professor, the Nautilus is stranded in five fathoms,
and we have nothing to do but to start."
"But how shall we get off?"
"You shall see."
Captain Nemo thrust his head into the helmet, Conseil and I did the
same, not without hearing an ironical "Good sport!" from the Canadian. The
upper part of our dress terminated in a copper collar upon which was
screwed the metal helmet. Three holes, protected by thick glass, allowed
us to see in all directions, by simply turning our head in the interior of
the head-dress. As soon as it was in position, the Rouquayrol apparatus on
our backs began to act; and, for my part, I could breathe with ease.
With the Ruhmkorff lamp hanging from my belt, and the gun in my hand, I
was ready to set out. But to speak the truth, imprisoned in these heavy
garments, and glued to the deck by my leaden soles, it was impossible for
me to take a step.
But this state of things was provided for. I felt myself being pushed
into a little room contiguous to the wardrobe room. My companions
followed, towed along in the same way. I heard a water-tight door,
furnished with stopper plates, close upon us, and we were wrapped in
profound darkness.
After some minutes, a loud hissing was heard. I felt the cold mount
from my feet to my chest. Evidently from some part of the vessel they had,
by means of a tap, given entrance to the water, which was invading us, and
with which the room was soon filled. A second door cut in the side of the
Nautilus then opened. We saw a faint light. In another instant our feet
trod the bottom of the sea.
And now, how can I retrace the impression left upon me by that walk
under the waters? Words are impotent to relate such wonders! Captain Nemo
walked in front, his companion followed some steps behind. Conseil and I
remained near each other, as if an exchange of words had been possible
through our metallic cases. I no longer felt the weight of my clothing, or
of my shoes, of my reservoir of air, or my thick helmet, in the midst of
which my head rattled like an almond in its shell.
The light, which lit the soil thirty feet below the surface of the
ocean, astonished me by its power. The solar rays shone through the watery
mass easily, and dissipated all colour, and I clearly distinguished
objects at a distance of a hundred and fifty yards. Beyond that the tints
darkened into fine gradations of ultramarine, and faded into vague
obscurity. Truly this water which surrounded me was but another air denser
than the terrestrial atmosphere, but almost as transparent. Above me was
the calm surface of the sea. We were walking on fine, even sand, not
wrinkled, as on a flat shore, which retains the impression of the billows.
This dazzling carpet, really a reflector, repelled the rays of the sun
with wonderful intensity, which accounted for the vibration which
penetrated every atom of liquid. Shall I be believed when I say that, at
the depth of thirty feet, I could see as if I was in broad daylight?
For a quarter of an hour I trod on this sand, sown with the impalpable
dust of shells. The hull of the Nautilus, resembling a long shoal,
disappeared by degrees; but its lantern, when darkness should overtake us
in the waters, would help to guide us on board by its distinct rays.
Soon forms of objects outlined in the distance were discernible. I
recognised magnificent rocks, hung with a tapestry of zoophytes of the
most beautiful kind, and I was at first struck by the peculiar effect of
this medium.
It was then ten in the morning; the rays of the sun struck the surface
of the waves at rather an oblique angle, and at the touch of their light,
decomposed by refraction as through a prism, flowers, rocks, plants,
shells, and polypi were shaded at the edges by the seven solar colours. It
was marvellous, a feast for the eyes, this complication of coloured tints,
a perfect kaleidoscope of green, yellow, orange, violet, indigo, and blue;
in one word, the whole palette of an enthusiastic colourist! Why could I
not communicate to Conseil the lively sensations which were mounting to my
brain, and rival him in expressions of admiration? For aught I knew,
Captain Nemo and his companion might be able to exchange thoughts by means
of signs previously agreed upon. So, for want of better, I talked to
myself; I declaimed in the copper box which covered my head, thereby
expending more air in vain words than was perhaps wise.
Various kinds of isis, clusters of pure tuft-coral, prickly fungi, and
anemones formed a brilliant garden of flowers, decked with their
collarettes of blue tentacles, sea-stars studding the sandy bottom. It was
a real grief to me to crush under my feet the brilliant specimens of
molluscs which strewed the ground by thousands, of hammerheads, donaciae
(veritable bounding shells), of staircases, and red helmet-shells,
angel-wings, and many others produced by this inexhaustible ocean. But we
were bound to walk, so we went on, whilst above our heads waved medusae
whose umbrellas of opal or rose-pink, escalloped with a band of blue,
sheltered us from the rays of the sun and fiery pelagiae, which, in the
darkness, would have strewn our path with phosphorescent light.
All these wonders I saw in the space of a quarter of a mile, scarcely
stopping, and following Captain Nemo, who beckoned me on by signs. Soon
the nature of the soil changed; to the sandy plain succeeded an extent of
slimy mud which the Americans call "ooze," composed of equal parts of
silicious and calcareous shells. We then travelled over a plain of seaweed
of wild and luxuriant vegetation. This sward was of close texture, and
soft to the feet, and rivalled the softest carpet woven by the hand of
man. But whilst verdure was spread at our feet, it did not abandon our
heads. A light network of marine plants, of that inexhaustible family of
seaweeds of which more than two thousand kinds are known, grew on the
surface of the water.
I noticed that the green plants kept nearer the top of the sea, whilst
the red were at a greater depth, leaving to the black or brown the care of
forming gardens and parterres in the remote beds of the ocean.
We had quitted the Nautilus about an hour and a half. It was near noon;
I knew by the perpendicularity of the sun's rays, which were no longer
refracted. The magical colours disappeared by degrees, and the shades of
emerald and sapphire were effaced. We walked with a regular step, which
rang upon the ground with astonishing intensity; the slightest noise was
transmitted with a quickness to which the ear is unaccustomed on the
earth; indeed, water is a better conductor of sound than air, in the ratio
of four to one. At this period the earth sloped downwards; the light took
a uniform tint. We were at a depth of a hundred and five yards and twenty
inches, undergoing a pressure of six atmospheres.
At this depth I could still see the rays of the sun, though feebly; to
their intense brilliancy had succeeded a reddish twilight, the lowest
state between day and night; but we could still see well enough; it was
not necessary to resort to the Ruhmkorff apparatus as yet. At this moment
Captain Nemo stopped; he waited till I joined him, and then pointed to an
obscure mass, looming in the shadow, at a short distance.
"It is the forest of the Island of Crespo," thought I; and I was not
mistaken.
Chapter XVI. A SUBMARINE FOREST
We had at last arrived on the borders of this forest, doubtless one of
the finest of Captain Nemo's immense domains. He looked upon it as his
own, and considered he had the same right over it that the first men had
in the first days of the world. And, indeed, who would have disputed with
him the possession of this submarine property? What other hardier pioneer
would come, hatchet in hand, to cut down the dark copses?
This forest was composed of large tree-plants; and the moment we
penetrated under its vast arcades, I was struck by the singular position
of their branches-a position I had not yet observed.
Not an herb which carpeted the ground, not a branch which clothed the
trees, was either broken or bent, nor did they extend horizontally; all
stretched up to the surface of the ocean. Not a filament, not a ribbon,
however thin they might be, but kept as straight as a rod of iron. The
fuci and llianas grew in rigid perpendicular lines, due to the density of
the element which had produced them. Motionless yet, when bent to one side
by the hand, they directly resumed their former position. Truly it was the
region of perpendicularity!
I soon accustomed myself to this fantastic position, as well as to the
comparative darkness which surrounded us. The soil of the forest seemed
covered with sharp blocks, difficult to avoid. The submarine flora struck
me as being very perfect, and richer even than it would have been in the
arctic or tropical zones, where these productions are not so plentiful.
But for some minutes I involuntarily confounded the genera, taking animals
for plants; and who would not have been mistaken? The fauna and the flora
are too closely allied in this submarine world.
These plants are self-propagated, and the principle of their existence
is in the water, which upholds and nourishes them. The greater number,
instead of leaves, shoot forth blades of capricious shapes, comprised
within a scale of colours pink, carmine, green, olive, fawn, and brown.
"Curious anomaly, fantastic element!" said an ingenious naturalist, "in
which the animal kingdom blossoms, and the vegetable does not!"
In about an hour Captain Nemo gave the signal to halt; I, for my part,
was not sorry, and we stretched ourselves under an arbour of alariae, the
long thin blades of which stood up like arrows.
This short rest seemed delicious to me; there was nothing wanting but
the charm of conversation; but, impossible to speak, impossible to answer,
I only put my great copper head to Conseil's. I saw the worthy fellow's
eyes glistening with delight, and, to show his satisfaction, he shook
himself in his breastplate of air, in the most comical way in the world.
After four hours of this walking, I was surprised not to find myself
dreadfully hungry. How to account for this state of the stomach I could
not tell. But instead I felt an insurmountable desire to sleep, which
happens to all divers. And my eyes soon closed behind the thick glasses,
and I fell into a heavy slumber, which the movement alone had prevented
before. Captain Nemo and his robust companion, stretched in the clear
crystal, set us the example.
How long I remained buried in this drowsiness I cannot judge, but, when
I woke, the sun seemed sinking towards the horizon. Captain Nemo had
already risen, and I was beginning to stretch my limbs, when an unexpected
apparition brought me briskly to my feet.
A few steps off, a monstrous sea-spider, about thirty-eight inches
high, was watching me with squinting eyes, ready to spring upon me. Though
my diver's dress was thick enough to defend me from the bite of this
animal, I could not help shuddering with horror. Conseil and the sailor of
the Nautilus awoke at this moment. Captain Nemo pointed out the hideous
crustacean, which a blow from the butt end of the gun knocked over, and I
saw the horrible claws of the monster writhe in terrible convulsions. This
incident reminded me that other animals more to be feared might haunt
these obscure depths, against whose attacks my diving-dress would not
protect me. I had never thought of it before, but I now resolved to be
upon my guard. Indeed, I thought that this halt would mark the termination
of our walk; but I was mistaken, for, instead of returning to the
Nautilus, Captain Nemo continued his bold excursion. The ground was still
on the incline, its declivity seemed to be getting greater, and to be
leading us to greater depths. It must have been about three o'clock when
we reached a narrow valley, between high perpendicular walls, situated
about seventy-five fathoms deep. Thanks to the perfection of our
apparatus, we were forty-five fathoms below the limit which nature seems
to have imposed on man as to his submarine excursions.
I say seventy-five fathoms, though I had no instrument by which to
judge the distance. But I knew that even in the clearest waters the solar
rays could not penetrate further. And accordingly the darkness deepened.
At ten paces not an object was visible. I was groping my way, when I
suddenly saw a brilliant white light. Captain Nemo had just put his
electric apparatus into use; his companion did the same, and Conseil and I
followed their example. By turning a screw I established a communication
between the wire and the spiral glass, and the sea, lit by our four
lanterns, was illuminated for a circle of thirty-six yards.
As we walked I thought the light of our Ruhmkorff apparatus could not
fail to draw some inhabitant from its dark couch. But if they did approach
us, they at least kept at a respectful distance from the hunters. Several
times I saw Captain Nemo stop, put his gun to his shoulder, and after some
moments drop it and walk on. At last, after about four hours, this
marvellous excursion came to an end. A wall of superb rocks, in an
imposing mass, rose before us, a heap of gigantic blocks, an enormous,
steep granite shore, forming dark grottos, but which presented no
practicable slope; it was the prop of the Island of Crespo. It was the
earth! Captain Nemo stopped suddenly. A gesture of his brought us all to a
halt; and, however desirous I might be to scale the wall, I was obliged to
stop. Here ended Captain Nemo's domains. And he would not go beyond them.
Further on was a portion of the globe he might not trample upon.
The return began. Captain Nemo had returned to the head of his little
band, directing their course without hesitation. I thought we were not
following the same road to return to the Nautilus. The new road was very
steep, and consequently very painful. We approached the surface of the sea
rapidly. But this return to the upper strata was not so sudden as to cause
relief from the pressure too rapidly, which might have produced serious
disorder in our organisation, and brought on internal lesions, so fatal to
divers. Very soon light reappeared and grew, and, the sun being low on the
horizon, the refraction edged the different objects with a spectral ring.
At ten yards and a half deep, we walked amidst a shoal of little fishes of
all kinds, more numerous than the birds of the air, and also more agile;
but no aquatic game worthy of a shot had as yet met our gaze, when at that
moment I saw the Captain shoulder his gun quickly, and follow a moving
object into the shrubs. He fired; I heard a slight hissing, and a creature
fell stunned at some distance from us. It was a magnificent sea-otter, an
enhydrus, the only exclusively marine quadruped. This otter was five feet
long, and must have been very valuable. Its skin, chestnut-brown above and
silvery underneath, would have made one of those beautiful furs so sought
after in the Russian and Chinese markets: the fineness and the lustre of
its coat would certainly fetch L80. I admired this curious mammal, with
its rounded head ornamented with short ears, its round eyes, and white
whiskers like those of a cat, with webbed feet and nails, and tufted tail.
This precious animal, hunted and tracked by fishermen, has now become very
rare, and taken refuge chiefly in the northern parts of the Pacific, or
probably its race would soon become extinct.
Captain Nemo's companion took the beast, threw it over his shoulder,
and we continued our journey. For one hour a plain of sand lay stretched
before us. Sometimes it rose to within two yards and some inches of the
surface of the water. I then saw our image clearly reflected, drawn
inversely, and above us appeared an identical group reflecting our
movements and our actions; in a word, like us in every point, except that
they walked with their heads downward and their feet in the air.
Another effect I noticed, which was the passage of thick clouds which
formed and vanished rapidly; but on reflection I understood that these
seeming clouds were due to the varying thickness of the reeds at the
bottom, and I could even see the fleecy foam which their broken tops
multiplied on the water, and the shadows of large birds passing above our
heads, whose rapid flight I could discern on the surface of the sea.
On this occasion I was witness to one of the finest gun shots which
ever made the nerves of a hunter thrill. A large bird of great breadth of
wing, clearly visible, approached, hovering over us. Captain Nemo's
companion shouldered his gun and fired, when it was only a few yards above
the waves. The creature fell stunned, and the force of its fall brought it
within the reach of dexterous hunter's grasp. It was an albatross of the
finest kind.
Our march had not been interrupted by this incident. For two hours we
followed these sandy plains, then fields of algae very disagreeable to
cross. Candidly, I could do no more when I saw a glimmer of light, which,
for a half mile, broke the darkness of the waters. It was the lantern of
the Nautilus. Before twenty minutes were over we should be on board, and I
should be able to breathe with ease, for it seemed that my reservoir
supplied air very deficient in oxygen. But I did not reckon on an
accidental meeting which delayed our arrival for some time.
I had remained some steps behind, when I presently saw Captain Nemo
coming hurriedly towards me. With his strong hand he bent me to the
ground, his companion doing the same to Conseil. At first I knew not what
to think of this sudden attack, but I was soon reassured by seeing the
Captain lie down beside me, and remain immovable.
I was stretched on the ground, just under the shelter of a bush of
algae, when, raising my head, I saw some enormous mass, casting
phosphorescent gleams, pass blusteringly by.
My blood froze in my veins as I recognised two formidable sharks which
threatened us. It was a couple of tintoreas, terrible creatures, with
enormous tails and a dull glassy stare, the phosphorescent matter ejected
from holes pierced around the muzzle. Monstrous brutes! which would crush
a whole man in their iron jaws. I did not know whether Conseil stopped to
classify them; for my part, I noticed their silver bellies, and their huge
mouths bristling with teeth, from a very unscientific point of view, and
more as a possible victim than as a naturalist.
Happily the voracious creatures do not see well. They passed without
seeing us, brushing us with their brownish fins, and we escaped by a
miracle from a danger certainly greater than meeting a tiger full-face in
the forest. Half an hour after, guided by the electric light we reached
the Nautilus. The outside door had been left open, and Captain Nemo closed
it as soon as we had entered the first cell. He then pressed a knob. I
heard the pumps working in the midst of the vessel, I felt the water
sinking from around me, and in a few moments the cell was entirely empty.
The inside door then opened, and we entered the vestry.
There our diving-dress was taken off, not without some trouble, and,
fairly worn out from want of food and sleep, I returned to my room, in
great wonder at this surprising excursion at the bottom of the sea.
Chapter XVII. FOUR THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE PACIFIC
The next morning, the 18th of November, I had quite recovered from my
fatigues of the day before, and I went up on to the platform, just as the
second lieutenant was uttering his daily phrase.
I was admiring the magnificent aspect of the ocean when Captain Nemo
appeared. He did not seem to be aware of my presence, and began a series
of astronomical observations. Then, when he had finished, he went and
leant on the cage of the watch-light, and gazed abstractedly on the ocean.
In the meantime, a number of the sailors of the Nautilus, all strong and
healthy men, had come up onto the platform. They came to draw up the nets
that had been laid all night. These sailors were evidently of different
nations, although the European type was visible in all of them. I
recognised some unmistakable Irishmen, Frenchmen, some Sclaves, and a
Greek, or a Candiote. They were civil, and only used that odd language
among themselves, the origin of which I could not guess, neither could I
question them.
The nets were hauled in. They were a large kind of "chaluts," like
those on the Normandy coasts, great pockets that the waves and a chain
fixed in the smaller meshes kept open. These pockets, drawn by iron poles,
swept through the water, and gathered in everything in their way. That day
they brought up curious specimens from those productive coasts.
I reckoned that the haul had brought in more than nine hundredweight of
fish. It was a fine haul, but not to be wondered at. Indeed, the nets are
let down for several hours, and enclose in their meshes an infinite
variety. We had no lack of excellent food, and the rapidity of the
Nautilus and the attraction of the electric light could always renew our
supply. These several productions of the sea were immediately lowered
through the panel to the steward's room, some to be eaten fresh, and
others pickled.
The fishing ended, the provision of air renewed, I thought that the
Nautilus was about to continue its submarine excursion, and was preparing
to return to my room, when, without further preamble, the Captain turned
to me, saying:
"Professor, is not this ocean gifted with real life? It has its tempers
and its gentle moods. Yesterday it slept as we did, and now it has woke
after a quiet night. Look!" he continued, "it wakes under the caresses of
the sun. It is going to renew its diurnal existence. It is an interesting
study to watch the play of its organisation. It has a pulse, arteries,
spasms; and I agree with the learned Maury, who discovered in it a
circulation as real as the circulation of blood in animals.
"Yes, the ocean has indeed circulation, and to promote it, the Creator
has caused things to multiply in it-caloric, salt, and animalculae."
When Captain Nemo spoke thus, he seemed altogether changed, and aroused
an extraordinary emotion in me.
"Also," he added, "true existence is there; and I can imagine the
foundations of nautical towns, clusters of submarine houses, which, like
the Nautilus, would ascend every morning to breathe at the surface of the
water, free towns, independent cities. Yet who knows whether some despot-"
Captain Nemo finished his sentence with a violent gesture. Then,
addressing me as if to chase away some sorrowful thought:
"M. Aronnax," he asked. "do you know the depth of the ocean?"
"I only know, Captain, what the principal soundings have taught us."
"Could you tell me them, so that I can suit them to my purpose?"
"These are some," I replied, "that I remember. If I am not mistaken, a
depth of 8,000 yards has been found in the North Atlantic, and 2,500 yards
in the Mediterranean. The most remarkable soundings have been made in the
South Atlantic, near the thirty-fifth parallel, and they gave 12,000
yards, 14,000 yards, and 15,000 yards. To sum up all, it is reckoned that
if the bottom of the sea were levelled, its mean depth would be about one
and three-quarter leagues."
"Well, Professor," replied the Captain, "we shall show you better than
that I hope. As to the mean depth of this part of the Pacific, I tell you
it is only 4,000 yards."
Having said this, Captain Nemo went towards the panel, and disappeared
down the ladder. I followed him, and went into the large drawing-room. The
screw was immediately put in motion, and the log gave twenty miles an
hour.
During the days and weeks that passed, Captain Nemo was very sparing of
his visits. I seldom saw him. The lieutenant pricked the ship's course
regularly on the chart, so I could always tell exactly the route of the
Nautilus.
Nearly every day, for some time, the panels of the drawing-room were
opened, and we were never tired of penetrating the mysteries of the
submarine world.
The general direction of the Nautilus was south-east, and it kept
between 100 and 150 yards of depth. One day, however, I do not know why,
being drawn diagonally by means of the inclined planes, it touched the bed
of the sea. The thermometer indicated a temperature of 4.25 (cent.): a
temperature that at this depth seemed common to all latitudes.
At three o'clock in the morning of the 26th of November the Nautilus
crossed the tropic of Cancer at 172O long. On 27th instant it sighted the
Sandwich Islands, where Cook died, February 14, 1779. We had then gone
4,860 leagues from our starting-point. In the morning, when I went on the
platform, I saw two miles to windward, Hawaii, the largest of the seven
islands that form the group. I saw clearly the cultivated ranges, and the
several mountain-chains that run parallel with the side, and the volcanoes
that overtop Mouna-Rea, which rise 5,000 yards above the level of the sea.
Besides other things the nets brought up, were several flabellariae and
graceful polypi, that are peculiar to that part of the ocean. The
direction of the Nautilus was still to the south-east. It crossed the
equator December 1, in 142O long.; and on the 4th of the same month, after
crossing rapidly and without anything in particular occurring, we sighted
the Marquesas group. I saw, three miles off, Martin's peak in Nouka-Hiva,
the largest of the group that belongs to France. I only saw the woody
mountains against the horizon, because Captain Nemo did not wish to bring
the ship to the wind. There the nets brought up beautiful specimens of
fish: some with azure fins and tails like gold, the flesh of which is
unrivalled; some nearly destitute of scales, but of exquisite flavour;
others, with bony jaws, and yellow-tinged gills, as good as bonitos; all
fish that would be of use to us. After leaving these charming islands
protected by the French flag, from the 4th to the 11th of December the
Nautilus sailed over about 2,000 miles.
During the daytime of the 11th of December I was busy reading in the
large drawing-room. Ned Land and Conseil watched the luminous water
through the half-open panels. The Nautilus was immovable. While its
reservoirs were filled, it kept at a depth of 1,000 yards, a region rarely
visited in the ocean, and in which large fish were seldom seen.
I was then reading a charming book by Jean Mace, The Slaves of the
Stomach, and I was learning some valuable lessons from it, when Conseil
interrupted me.
"Will master come here a moment?" he said, in a curious voice.
"What is the matter, Conseil?"
"I want master to look."
I rose, went, and leaned on my elbows before the panes and watched.
In a full electric light, an enormous black mass, quite immovable, was
suspended in the midst of the waters. I watched it attentively, seeking to
find out the nature of this gigantic cetacean. But a sudden thought
crossed my mind. "A vessel!" I said, half aloud.
"Yes," replied the Canadian, "a disabled ship that has sunk
perpendicularly."
Ned Land was right; we were close to a vessel of which the tattered
shrouds still hung from their chains. The keel seemed to be in good order,
and it had been wrecked at most some few hours. Three stumps of masts,
broken off about two feet above the bridge, showed that the vessel had had
to sacrifice its masts. But, lying on its side, it had filled, and it was
heeling over to port. This skeleton of what it had once been was a sad
spectacle as it lay lost under the waves, but sadder still was the sight
of the bridge, where some corpses, bound with ropes, were still lying. I
counted five-four men, one of whom was standing at the helm, and a woman
standing by the poop, holding an infant in her arms. She was quite young.
I could distinguish her features, which the water had not decomposed, by
the brilliant light from the Nautilus. In one despairing effort, she had
raised her infant above her head- poor little thing!-whose arms encircled
its mother's neck. The attitude of the four sailors was frightful,
distorted as they were by their convulsive movements, whilst making a last
effort to free themselves from the cords that bound them to the vessel.
The steersman alone, calm, with a grave, clear face, his grey hair glued
to his forehead, and his hand clutching the wheel of the helm, seemed even
then to be guiding the three broken masts through the depths of the ocean.
What a scene! We were dumb; our hearts beat fast before this shipwreck,
taken as it were from life and photographed in its last moments. And I saw
already, coming towards it with hungry eyes, enormous sharks, attracted by
the human flesh.
However, the Nautilus, turning, went round the submerged vessel, and in
one instant I read on the stern-"The Florida, Sunderland."
This terrible spectacle was the forerunner of the series of maritime
catastrophes that the Nautilus was destined to meet with in its route. As
long as it went through more frequented waters, we often saw the hulls of
shipwrecked vessels that were rotting in the depths, and deeper down
cannons, bullets, anchors, chains, and a thousand other iron materials
eaten up by rust. However, on the 11th of December we sighted the Pomotou
Islands, the old "dangerous group" of Bougainville, that extend over a
space of 500 leagues at E.S.E. to W.N.W., from the Island Ducie to that of
Lazareff. This group covers an area of 370 square leagues, and it is
formed of sixty groups of islands, among which the Gambier group is
remarkable, over which France exercises sway. These are coral islands,
slowly raised, but continuous, created by the daily work of polypi. Then
this new island will be joined later on to the neighboring groups, and a
fifth continent will stretch from New Zealand and New Caledonia, and from
thence to the Marquesas.
One day, when I was suggesting this theory to Captain Nemo, he replied
coldly:
"The earth does not want new continents, but new men."
{5 paragraphs have been stripped from this edition}
On 15th of December, we left to the east the bewitching group of the
Societies and the graceful Tahiti, queen of the Pacific. I saw in the
morning, some miles to the windward, the elevated summits of the island.
These waters furnished our table with excellent fish, mackerel, bonitos,
and some varieties of a sea-serpent.
On the 25th of December the Nautilus sailed into the midst of the New
Hebrides, discovered by Quiros in 1606, and that Bougainville explored in
1768, and to which Cook gave its present name in 1773. This group is
composed principally of nine large islands, that form a band of 120
leagues N.N.S. to S.S.W., between 15O and 2O S. lat., and 164O and 168O
long. We passed tolerably near to the Island of Aurou, that at noon looked
like a mass of green woods, surmounted by a peak of great height.
That day being Christmas Day, Ned Land seemed to regret sorely the
non-celebration of "Christmas," the family fete of which Protestants are
so fond. I had not seen Captain Nemo for a week, when, on the morning of
the 27th, he came into the large drawing-room, always seeming as if he had
seen you five minutes before. I was busily tracing the route of the
Nautilus on the planisphere. The Captain came up to me, put his finger on
one spot on the chart, and said this single word.
"Vanikoro."
The effect was magical! It was the name of the islands on which La
Perouse had been lost! I rose suddenly.
"The Nautilus has brought us to Vanikoro?" I asked.
"Yes, Professor," said the Captain.
"And I can visit the celebrated islands where the Boussole and the
Astrolabe struck?"
"If you like, Professor."
"When shall we be there?"
"We are there now."
Followed by Captain Nemo, I went up on to the platform, and greedily
scanned the horizon.
To the N.E. two volcanic islands emerged of unequal size, surrounded by
a coral reef that measured forty miles in circumference. We were close to
Vanikoro, really the one to which Dumont d'Urville gave the name of Isle
de la Recherche, and exactly facing the little harbour of Vanou, situated
in 16O 4' S. lat., and 164O 32' E. long. The earth seemed covered with
verdure from the shore to the summits in the interior, that were crowned
by Mount Kapogo, 476 feet high. The Nautilus, having passed the outer belt
of rocks by a narrow strait, found itself among breakers where the sea was
from thirty to forty fathoms deep. Under the verdant shade of some
mangroves I perceived some savages, who appeared greatly surprised at our
approach. In the long black body, moving between wind and water, did they
not see some formidable cetacean that they regarded with suspicion?
Just then Captain Nemo asked me what I knew about the wreck of La
Perouse.
"Only what everyone knows, Captain," I replied.
"And could you tell me what everyone knows about it?" he inquired,
ironically.
"Easily."
I related to him all that the last works of Dumont d'Urville had made
known- works from which the following is a brief account.
La Perouse, and his second, Captain de Langle, were sent by Louis XVI,
in 1785, on a voyage of circumnavigation. They embarked in the corvettes
Boussole and the Astrolabe, neither of which were again heard of. In 1791,
the French Government, justly uneasy as to the fate of these two sloops,
manned two large merchantmen, the Recherche and the Esperance, which left
Brest the 28th of September under the command of Bruni d'Entrecasteaux.
Two months after, they learned from Bowen, commander of the Albemarle,
that the debris of shipwrecked vessels had been seen on the coasts of New
Georgia. But D'Entrecasteaux, ignoring this communication- rather
uncertain, besides-directed his course towards the Admiralty Islands,
mentioned in a report of Captain Hunter's as being the place where La
Perouse was wrecked.
They sought in vain. The Esperance and the Recherche passed before
Vanikoro without stopping there, and, in fact, this voyage was most
disastrous, as it cost D'Entrecasteaux his life, and those of two of his
lieutenants, besides several of his crew.
Captain Dillon, a shrewd old Pacific sailor, was the first to find
unmistakable traces of the wrecks. On the 15th of May, 1824, his vessel,
the St. Patrick, passed close to Tikopia, one of the New Hebrides. There a
Lascar came alongside in a canoe, sold him the handle of a sword in silver
that bore the print of characters engraved on the hilt. The Lascar
pretended that six years before, during a stay at Vanikoro, he had seen
two Europeans that belonged to some vessels that had run aground on the
reefs some years ago.
Dillon guessed that he meant La Perouse, whose disappearance had
troubled the whole world. He tried to get on to Vanikoro, where, according
to the Lascar, he would find numerous debris of the wreck, but winds and
tides prevented him.
Dillon returned to Calcutta. There he interested the Asiatic Society
and the Indian Company in his discovery. A vessel, to which was given the
name of the Recherche, was put at his disposal, and he set out, 23rd
January, 1827, accompanied by a French agent.
The Recherche, after touching at several points in the Pacific, cast
anchor before Vanikoro, 7th July, 1827, in that same harbour of Vanou
where the Nautilus was at this time.
There it collected numerous relics of the wreck- iron utensils,
anchors, pulley-strops, swivel-guns, an 18 lb. shot, fragments of
astronomical instruments, a piece of crown work, and a bronze clock,
bearing this inscription-"Bazin m'a fait," the mark of the foundry of the
arsenal at Brest about 1785. There could be no further doubt.
Dillon, having made all inquiries, stayed in the unlucky place till
October. Then he quitted Vanikoro, and directed his course towards New
Zealand; put into Calcutta, 7th April, 1828, and returned to France, where
he was warmly welcomed by Charles X.
But at the same time, without knowing Dillon's movements, Dumont
d'Urville had already set out to find the scene of the wreck. And they had
learned from a whaler that some medals and a cross of St. Louis had been
found in the hands of some savages of Louisiade and New Caledonia. Dumont
d'Urville, commander of the Astrolabe, had then sailed, and two months
after Dillon had left Vanikoro he put into Hobart Town. There he learned
the results of Dillon's inquiries, and found that a certain James Hobbs,
second lieutenant of the Union of Calcutta, after landing on an island
situated 8O 18' S. lat., and 156O 30' E. long., had seen some iron bars
and red stuffs used by the natives of these parts. Dumont d'Urville, much
perplexed, and not knowing how to credit the reports of low-class
journals, decided to follow Dillon's track.
On the 10th of February, 1828, the Astrolabe appeared off Tikopia, and
took as guide and interpreter a deserter found on the island; made his way
to Vanikoro, sighted it on the 12th inst., lay among the reefs until the
14th, and not until the 20th did he cast anchor within the barrier in the
harbour of Vanou.
On the 23rd, several officers went round the island and brought back
some unimportant trifles. The natives, adopting a system of denials and
evasions, refused to take them to the unlucky place. This ambiguous
conduct led them to believe that the natives had ill-treated the
castaways, and indeed they seemed to fear that Dumont d'Urville had come
to avenge La Perouse and his unfortunate crew.
However, on the 26th, appeased by some presents, and understanding that
they had no reprisals to fear, they led M. Jacquireot to the scene of the
wreck.
There, in three or four fathoms of water, between the reefs of Pacou
and Vanou, lay anchors, cannons, pigs of lead and iron, embedded in the
limy concretions. The large boat and the whaler belonging to the Astrolabe
were sent to this place, and, not without some difficulty, their crews
hauled up an anchor weighing 1,800 lbs., a brass gun, some pigs of iron,
and two copper swivel-guns.
Dumont d'Urville, questioning the natives, learned too that La Perouse,
after losing both his vessels on the reefs of this island, had constructed
a smaller boat, only to be lost a second time. Where, no one knew.
But the French Government, fearing that Dumont d'Urville was not
acquainted with Dillon's movements, had sent the sloop Bayonnaise,
commanded by Legoarant de Tromelin, to Vanikoro, which had been stationed
on the west coast of America. The Bayonnaise cast her anchor before
Vanikoro some months after the departure of the Astrolabe, but found no
new document; but stated that the savages had respected the monument to La
Perouse. That is the substance of what I told Captain Nemo.
"So," he said, "no one knows now where the third vessel perished that
was constructed by the castaways on the island of Vanikoro?"
"No one knows."
Captain Nemo said nothing, but signed to me to follow him into the
large saloon. The Nautilus sank several yards below the waves, and the
panels were opened.
I hastened to the aperture, and under the crustations of coral, covered
with fungi, I recognised certain debris that the drags had not been able
to tear up-iron stirrups, anchors, cannons, bullets, capstan fittings, the
stem of a ship, all objects clearly proving the wreck of some vessel, and
now carpeted with living flowers. While I was looking on this desolate
scene, Captain Nemo said, in a sad voice:
{this above para was edited}
"Commander La Perouse set out 7th December, 1785, with his vessels La
Boussole and the Astrolabe. He first cast anchor at Botany Bay, visited
the Friendly Isles, New Caledonia, then directed his course towards Santa
Cruz, and put into Namouka, one of the Hapai group. Then his vessels
struck on the unknown reefs of Vanikoro. The Boussole, which went first,
ran aground on the southerly coast. The Astrolabe went to its help, and
ran aground too. The first vessel was destroyed almost immediately. The
second, stranded under the wind, resisted some days. The natives made the
castaways welcome. They installed themselves in the island, and
constructed a smaller boat with the debris of the two large ones. Some
sailors stayed willingly at Vanikoro; the others, weak and ill, set out
with La Perouse. They directed their course towards the Solomon Islands,
and there perished, with everything, on the westerly coast of the chief
island of the group, between Capes Deception and Satisfaction."
"How do you know that?"
"By this, that I found on the spot where was the last wreck."
Captain Nemo showed me a tin-plate box, stamped with the French arms,
and corroded by the salt water. He opened it, and I saw a bundle of
papers, yellow but still readable.
They were the instructions of the naval minister to Commander La
Perouse, annotated in the margin in Louis XVI's handwriting.
"Ah! it is a fine death for a sailor!" said Captain Nemo, at last. "A
coral tomb makes a quiet grave; and I trust that I and my comrades will
find no other."
Chapter XIX. TORRES STRAITS
During the night of the 27th or 28th of December, the Nautilus left the
shores of Vanikoro with great speed. Her course was south-westerly, and in
three days she had gone over the 750 leagues that separated it from La
Perouse's group and the south-east point of Papua.
Early on the 1st of January, 1863, Conseil joined me on the platform.
"Master, will you permit me to wish you a happy New Year?"
"What! Conseil; exactly as if I was at Paris in my study at the Jardin
des Plantes? Well, I accept your good wishes, and thank you for them.
Only, I will ask you what you mean by a `Happy New Year' under our
circumstances? Do you mean the year that will bring us to the end of our
imprisonment, or the year that sees us continue this strange voyage?"
"Really, I do not know how to answer, master. We are sure to see
curious things, and for the last two months we have not had time for
dullness. The last marvel is always the most astonishing; and, if we
continue this progression, I do not know how it will end. It is my opinion
that we shall never again see the like. I think then, with no offence to
master, that a happy year would be one in which we could see everything."
On 2nd January we had made 11,340 miles, or 5,250 French leagues, since
our starting-point in the Japan Seas. Before the ship's head stretched the
dangerous shores of the coral sea, on the north-east coast of Australia.
Our boat lay along some miles from the redoubtable bank on which Cook's
vessel was lost, 10th June, 1770. The boat in which Cook was struck on a
rock, and, if it did not sink, it was owing to a piece of coral that was
broken by the shock, and fixed itself in the broken keel.
I had wished to visit the reef, 360 leagues long, against which the
sea, always rough, broke with great violence, with a noise like thunder.
But just then the inclined planes drew the Nautilus down to a great depth,
and I could see nothing of the high coral walls. I had to content myself
with the different specimens of fish brought up by the nets. I remarked,
among others, some germons, a species of mackerel as large as a tunny,
with bluish sides, and striped with transverse bands, that disappear with
the animal's life. These fish followed us in shoals, and furnished us with
very delicate food. We took also a large number of giltheads, about one
and a half inches long, tasting like dorys; and flying fire-fish like
submarine swallows, which, in dark nights, light alternately the air and
water with their phosphorescent light.{2 sentences missing here}
Two days after crossing the coral sea, 4th January, we sighted the
Papuan coasts. On this occasion, Captain Nemo informed me that his
intention was to get into the Indian Ocean by the Strait of Torres. His
communication ended there.
The Torres Straits are nearly thirty-four leagues wide; but they are
obstructed by an innumerable quantity of islands, islets, breakers, and
rocks, that make its navigation almost impracticable; so that Captain Nemo
took all needful precautions to cross them. The Nautilus, floating betwixt
wind and water, went at a moderate pace. Her screw, like a cetacean's
tail, beat the waves slowly.
Profiting by this, I and my two companions went up on to the deserted
platform. Before us was the steersman's cage, and I expected that Captain
Nemo was there directing the course of the Nautilus. I had before me the
excellent charts of the Straits of Torres, and I consulted them
attentively. Round the Nautilus the sea dashed furiously. The course of
the waves, that went from south-east to north-west at the rate of two and
a half miles, broke on the coral that showed itself here and there.
"This is a bad sea!" remarked Ned Land.
"Detestable indeed, and one that does not suit a boat like the
Nautilus."
"The Captain must be very sure of his route, for I see there pieces of
coral that would do for its keel if it only touched them slightly."
Indeed the situation was dangerous, but the Nautilus seemed to slide
like magic off these rocks. It did not follow the routes of the Astrolabe
and the Zelee exactly, for they proved fatal to Dumont d'Urville. It bore
more northwards, coasted the Islands of Murray, and came back to the
south-west towards Cumberland Passage. I thought it was going to pass it
by, when, going back to north-west, it went through a large quantity of
islands and islets little known, towards the Island Sound and Canal
Mauvais.
I wondered if Captain Nemo, foolishly imprudent, would steer his vessel
into that pass where Dumont d'Urville's two corvettes touched; when,
swerving again, and cutting straight through to the west, he steered for
the Island of Gilboa.
It was then three in the afternoon. The tide began to recede, being
quite full. The Nautilus approached the island, that I still saw, with its
remarkable border of screw-pines. He stood off it at about two miles
distant. Suddenly a shock overthrew me. The Nautilus just touched a rock,
and stayed immovable, laying lightly to port side.
When I rose, I perceived Captain Nemo and his lieutenant on the
platform. They were examining the situation of the vessel, and exchanging
words in their incomprehensible dialect.
She was situated thus: Two miles, on the starboard side, appeared
Gilboa, stretching from north to west like an immense arm. Towards the
south and east some coral showed itself, left by the ebb. We had run
aground, and in one of those seas where the tides are middling-a sorry
matter for the floating of the Nautilus. However, the vessel had not
suffered, for her keel was solidly joined. But, if she could neither glide
off nor move, she ran the risk of being for ever fastened to these rocks,
and then Captain Nemo's submarine vessel would be done for.
I was reflecting thus, when the Captain, cool and calm, always master
of himself, approached me.
"An accident?" I asked.
"No; an incident."
"But an incident that will oblige you perhaps to become an inhabitant
of this land from which you flee?"
Captain Nemo looked at me curiously, and made a negative gesture, as
much as to say that nothing would force him to set foot on terra firma
again. Then he said:
"Besides, M. Aronnax, the Nautilus is not lost; it will carry you yet
into the midst of the marvels of the ocean. Our voyage is only begun, and
I do not wish to be deprived so soon of the honour of your company."
"However, Captain Nemo," I replied, without noticing the ironical turn
of his phrase, "the Nautilus ran aground in open sea. Now the tides are
not strong in the Pacific; and, if you cannot lighten the Nautilus, I do
not see how it will be reinflated."
"The tides are not strong in the Pacific: you are right there,
Professor; but in Torres Straits one finds still a difference of a yard
and a half between the level of high and low seas. To-day is 4th January,
and in five days the moon will be full. Now, I shall be very much
astonished if that satellite does not raise these masses of water
sufficiently, and render me a service that I should be indebted to her
for."
Having said this, Captain Nemo, followed by his lieutenant, redescended
to the interior of the Nautilus. As to the vessel, it moved not, and was
immovable, as if the coralline polypi had already walled it up with their
in destructible cement.
"Well, sir?" said Ned Land, who came up to me after the departure of
the Captain.
"Well, friend Ned, we will wait patiently for the tide on the 9th
instant; for it appears that the moon will have the goodness to put it off
again."
"Really?"
"Really."
"And this Captain is not going to cast anchor at all since the tide
will suffice?" said Conseil, simply.
The Canadian looked at Conseil, then shrugged his shoulders.
"Sir, you may believe me when I tell you that this piece of iron will
navigate neither on nor under the sea again; it is only fit to be sold for
its weight. I think, therefore, that the time has come to part company
with Captain Nemo."
"Friend Ned, I do not despair of this stout Nautilus, as you do; and in
four days we shall know what to hold to on the Pacific tides. Besides,
flight might be possible if we were in sight of the English or Provencal
coast; but on the Papuan shores, it is another thing; and it will be time
enough to come to that extremity if the Nautilus does not recover itself
again, which I look upon as a grave event."
"But do they know, at least, how to act circumspectly? There is an
island; on that island there are trees; under those trees, terrestrial
animals, bearers of cutlets and roast beef, to which I would willingly
give a trial."
"In this, friend Ned is right," said Conseil, "and I agree with him.
Could not master obtain permission from his friend Captain Nemo to put us
on land, if only so as not to lose the habit of treading on the solid
parts of our planet?"
"I can ask him, but he will refuse."
"Will master risk it?" asked Conseil, "and we shall know how to rely
upon the Captain's amiability."
To my great surprise, Captain Nemo gave me the permission I asked for,
and he gave it very agreeably, without even exacting from me a promise to
return to the vessel; but flight across New Guinea might be very perilous,
and I should not have counselled Ned Land to attempt it. Better to be a
prisoner on board the Nautilus than to fall into the hands of the natives.
At eight o'clock, armed with guns and hatchets, we got off the
Nautilus. The sea was pretty calm; a slight breeze blew on land. Conseil
and I rowing, we sped along quickly, and Ned steered in the straight
passage that the breakers left between them. The boat was well handled,
and moved rapidly.
Ned Land could not restrain his joy. He was like a prisoner that had
escaped from prison, and knew not that it was necessary to re-enter it.
"Meat! We are going to eat some meat; and what meat!" he replied. "Real
game! no, bread, indeed."
"I do not say that fish is not good; we must not abuse it; but a piece
of fresh venison, grilled on live coals, will agreeably vary our ordinary
course."
"Glutton!" said Conseil, "he makes my mouth water."
"It remains to be seen," I said, "if these forests are full of game,
and if the game is not such as will hunt the hunter himself."
"Well said, M. Aronnax," replied the Canadian, whose teeth seemed
sharpened like the edge of a hatchet; "but I will eat tiger- loin of
tiger-if there is no other quadruped on this island."
"Friend Ned is uneasy about it," said Conseil.
"Whatever it may be," continued Ned Land, "every animal with four paws
without feathers, or with two paws without feathers, will be saluted by my
first shot."
"Very well! Master Land's imprudences are beginning."
"Never fear, M. Aronnax," replied the Canadian; "I do not want
twenty-five minutes to offer you a dish, of my sort."
At half-past eight the Nautilus boat ran softly aground on a heavy
sand, after having happily passed the coral reef that surrounds the Island
of Gilboa.
Chapter XX. A FEW DAYS ON LAND
I was much impressed on touching land. Ned Land tried the soil with his
feet, as if to take possession of it. However, it was only two months
before that we had become, according to Captain Nemo, "passengers on board
the Nautilus," but, in reality, prisoners of its commander.
In a few minutes we were within musket-shot of the coast. The whole
horizon was hidden behind a beautiful curtain of forests. Enormous trees,
the trunks of which attained a height of 200 feet, were tied to each other
by garlands of bindweed, real natural hammocks, which a light breeze
rocked. They were mimosas, figs, hibisci, and palm trees, mingled together
in profusion; and under the shelter of their verdant vault grew orchids,
leguminous plants, and ferns.
But, without noticing all these beautiful specimens of Papuan flora,
the Canadian abandoned the agreeable for the useful. He discovered a
coco-tree, beat down some of the fruit, broke them, and we drunk the milk
and ate the nut with a satisfaction that protested against the ordinary
food on the Nautilus.
"Excellent!" said Ned Land.
"Exquisite!" replied Conseil.
"And I do not think," said the Canadian, "that he would object to our
introducing a cargo of coco-nuts on board."
"I do not think he would, but he would not taste them."
"So much the worse for him," said Conseil.
"And so much the better for us," replied Ned Land. "There will be more
for us."
"One word only, Master Land," I said to the harpooner, who was
beginning to ravage another coco-nut tree. "Coco-nuts are good things, but
before filling the canoe with them it would be wise to reconnoitre and see
if the island does not produce some substance not less useful. Fresh
vegetables would be welcome on board the Nautilus."
"Master is right," replied Conseil; "and I propose to reserve three
places in our vessel, one for fruits, the other for vegetables, and the
third for the venison, of which I have not yet seen the smallest
specimen."
"Conseil, we must not despair," said the Canadian.
"Let us continue," I returned, "and lie in wait. Although the island
seems uninhabited, it might still contain some individuals that would be
less hard than we on the nature of game."
"Ho! ho!" said Ned Land, moving his jaws significantly.
"Well, Ned!" said Conseil.
"My word!" returned the Canadian, "I begin to understand the charms of
anthropophagy."
"Ned! Ned! what are you saying? You, a man-eater? I should not feel
safe with you, especially as I share your cabin. I might perhaps wake one
day to find myself half devoured."
"Friend Conseil, I like you much, but not enough to eat you
unnecessarily."
"I would not trust you," replied Conseil. "But enough. We must
absolutely bring down some game to satisfy this cannibal, or else one of
these fine mornings, master will find only pieces of his servant to serve
him."
While we were talking thus, we were penetrating the sombre arches of
the forest, and for two hours we surveyed it in all directions.
Chance rewarded our search for eatable vegetables, and one of the most
useful products of the tropical zones furnished us with precious food that
we missed on board. I would speak of the bread-fruit tree, very abundant
in the island of Gilboa; and I remarked chiefly the variety destitute of
seeds, which bears in Malaya the name of "rima."
Ned Land knew these fruits well. He had already eaten many during his
numerous voyages, and he knew how to prepare the eatable substance.
Moreover, the sight of them excited him, and he could contain himself no
longer.
"Master," he said, "I shall die if I do not taste a little of this
bread-fruit pie."
"Taste it, friend Ned-taste it as you want. We are here to make
experiments-make them."
"It won't take long," said the Canadian.
And, provided with a lentil, he lighted a fire of dead wood that
crackled joyously. During this time, Conseil and I chose the best fruits
of the bread-fruit. Some had not then attained a sufficient degree of
maturity; and their thick skin covered a white but rather fibrous pulp.
Others, the greater number yellow and gelatinous, waited only to be
picked.
These fruits enclosed no kernel. Conseil brought a dozen to Ned Land,
who placed them on a coal fire, after having cut them in thick slices, and
while doing this repeating:
"You will see, master, how good this bread is. More so when one has
been deprived of it so long. It is not even bread," added he, "but a
delicate pastry. You have eaten none, master?"
"No, Ned."
"Very well, prepare yourself for a juicy thing. If you do not come for
more, I am no longer the king of harpooners."
After some minutes, the part of the fruits that was exposed to the fire
was completely roasted. The interior looked like a white pasty, a sort of
soft crumb, the flavour of which was like that of an artichoke.
It must be confessed this bread was excellent, and I ate of it with
great relish.
"What time is it now?" asked the Canadian.
"Two o'clock at least," replied Conseil.
"How time flies on firm ground!" sighed Ned Land.
"Let us be off," replied Conseil.
We returned through the forest, and completed our collection by a raid
upon the cabbage-palms, that we gathered from the tops of the trees,
little beans that I recognised as the "abrou" of the Malays, and yams of a
superior quality.
We were loaded when we reached the boat. But Ned Land did not find his
provisions sufficient. Fate, however, favoured us. Just as we were pushing
off, he perceived several trees, from twenty-five to thirty feet high, a
species of palm-tree.
At last, at five o'clock in the evening, loaded with our riches, we
quitted the shore, and half an hour after we hailed the Nautilus. No one
appeared on our arrival. The enormous iron-plated cylinder seemed
deserted. The provisions embarked, I descended to my chamber, and after
supper slept soundly.
The next day, 6th January, nothing new on board. Not a sound inside,
not a sign of life. The boat rested along the edge, in the same place in
which we had left it. We resolved to return to the island. Ned Land hoped
to be more fortunate than on the day before with regard to the hunt, and
wished to visit another part of the forest.
At dawn we set off. The boat, carried on by the waves that flowed to
shore, reached the island in a few minutes.
We landed, and, thinking that it was better to give in to the Canadian,
we followed Ned Land, whose long limbs threatened to distance us. He wound
up the coast towards the west: then, fording some torrents, he gained the
high plain that was bordered with admirable forests. Some kingfishers were
rambling along the water-courses, but they would not let themselves be
approached. Their circumspection proved to me that these birds knew what
to expect from bipeds of our species, and I concluded that, if the island
was not inhabited, at least human beings occasionally frequented it.
After crossing a rather large prairie, we arrived at the skirts of a
little wood that was enlivened by the songs and flight of a large number
of birds.
"There are only birds," said Conseil.
"But they are eatable," replied the harpooner.
"I do not agree with you, friend Ned, for I see only parrots there."
"Friend Conseil," said Ned, gravely, "the parrot is like pheasant to
those who have nothing else."
"And," I added, "this bird, suitably prepared, is worth knife and fork."
Indeed, under the thick foliage of this wood, a world of parrots were
flying from branch to branch, only needing a careful education to speak
the human language. For the moment, they were chattering with parrots of
all colours, and grave cockatoos, who seemed to meditate upon some
philosophical problem, whilst brilliant red lories passed like a piece of
bunting carried away by the breeze, papuans, with the finest azure
colours, and in all a variety of winged things most charming to behold,
but few eatable.
However, a bird peculiar to these lands, and which has never passed the
limits of the Arrow and Papuan islands, was wanting in this collection.
But fortune reserved it for me before long.
After passing through a moderately thick copse, we found a plain
obstructed with bushes. I saw then those magnificent birds, the
disposition of whose long feathers obliges them to fly against the wind.
Their undulating flight, graceful aerial curves, and the shading of their
colours, attracted and charmed one's looks. I had no trouble in
recognising them.
"Birds of paradise!" I exclaimed.
The Malays, who carry on a great trade in these birds with the Chinese,
have several means that we could not employ for taking them. Sometimes
they put snares on the top of high trees that the birds of paradise prefer
to frequent. Sometimes they catch them with a viscous birdlime that
paralyses their movements. They even go so far as to poison the fountains
that the birds generally drink from. But we were obliged to fire at them
during flight, which gave us few chances to bring them down; and, indeed,
we vainly exhausted one half our ammunition.
About eleven o'clock in the morning, the first range of mountains that
form the centre of the island was traversed, and we had killed nothing.
Hunger drove us on. The hunters had relied on the products of the chase,
and they were wrong. Happily Conseil, to his great surprise, made a double
shot and secured breakfast. He brought down a white pigeon and a
wood-pigeon, which, cleverly plucked and suspended from a skewer, was
roasted before a red fire of dead wood. While these interesting birds were
cooking, Ned prepared the fruit of the bread-tree. Then the wood-pigeons
were devoured to the bones, and declared excellent. The nutmeg, with which
they are in the habit of stuffing their crops, flavours their flesh and
renders it delicious eating.
"Now, Ned, what do you miss now?"
"Some four-footed game, M. Aronnax. All these pigeons are only
side-dishes and trifles; and until I have killed an animal with cutlets I
shall not be content."
"Nor I, Ned, if I do not catch a bird of paradise."
"Let us continue hunting," replied Conseil. "Let us go towards the sea.
We have arrived at the first declivities of the mountains, and I think we
had better regain the region of forests."
That was sensible advice, and was followed out. After walking for one
hour we had attained a forest of sago-trees. Some inoffensive serpents
glided away from us. The birds of paradise fled at our approach, and truly
I despaired of getting near one when Conseil, who was walking in front,
suddenly bent down, uttered a triumphal cry, and came back to me bringing
a magnificent specimen.
"Ah! bravo, Conseil!"
"Master is very good."
"No, my boy; you have made an excellent stroke. Take one of these
living birds, and carry it in your hand."
"If master will examine it, he will see that I have not deserved great
merit."
"Why, Conseil?"
"Because this bird is as drunk as a quail."
"Drunk!"
"Yes, sir; drunk with the nutmegs that it devoured under the
nutmeg-tree, under which I found it. See, friend Ned, see the monstrous
effects of intemperance!"
"By Jove!" exclaimed the Canadian, "because I have drunk gin for two
months, you must needs reproach me!"
However, I examined the curious bird. Conseil was right. The bird,
drunk with the juice, was quite powerless. It could not fly; it could
hardly walk.
This bird belonged to the most beautiful of the eight species that are
found in Papua and in the neighbouring islands. It was the "large emerald
bird, the most rare kind." It measured three feet in length. Its head was
comparatively small, its eyes placed near the opening of the beak, and
also small. But the shades of colour were beautiful, having a yellow beak,
brown feet and claws, nut-coloured wings with purple tips, pale yellow at
the back of the neck and head, and emerald colour at the throat, chestnut
on the breast and belly. Two horned, downy nets rose from below the tail,
that prolonged the long light feathers of admirable fineness, and they
completed the whole of this marvellous bird, that the natives have
poetically named the "bird of the sun."
But if my wishes were satisfied by the possession of the bird of
paradise, the Canadian's were not yet. Happily, about two o'clock, Ned
Land brought down a magnificent hog; from the brood of those the natives
call "bari-outang." The animal came in time for us to procure real
quadruped meat, and he was well received. Ned Land was very proud of his
shot. The hog, hit by the electric ball, fell stone dead. The Canadian
skinned and cleaned it properly, after having taken half a dozen cutlets,
destined to furnish us with a grilled repast in the evening. Then the hunt
was resumed, which was still more marked by Ned and Conseil's exploits.
Indeed, the two friends, beating the bushes, roused a herd of kangaroos
that fled and bounded along on their elastic paws. But these animals did
not take to flight so rapidly but what the electric capsule could stop
their course.
"Ah, Professor!" cried Ned Land, who was carried away by the delights
of the chase, "what excellent game, and stewed, too! What a supply for the
Nautilus! Two! three! five down! And to think that we shall eat that
flesh, and that the idiots on board shall not have a crumb!"
I think that, in the excess of his joy, the Canadian, if he had not
talked so much, would have killed them all. But he contented himself with
a single dozen of these interesting marsupians. These animals were small.
They were a species of those "kangaroo rabbits" that live habitually in
the hollows of trees, and whose speed is extreme; but they are moderately
fat, and furnish, at least, estimable food. We were very satisfied with
the results of the hunt. Happy Ned proposed to return to this enchanting
island the next day, for he wished to depopulate it of all the eatable
quadrupeds. But he had reckoned without his host.
At six o'clock in the evening we had regained the shore; our boat was
moored to the usual place. The Nautilus, like a long rock, emerged from
the waves two miles from the beach. Ned Land, without waiting, occupied
himself about the important dinner business. He understood all about
cooking well. The "bari-outang," grilled on the coals, soon scented the
air with a delicious odour.
Indeed, the dinner was excellent. Two wood-pigeons completed this
extraordinary menu. The sago pasty, the artocarpus bread, some mangoes,
half a dozen pineapples, and the liquor fermented from some coco-nuts,
overjoyed us. I even think that my worthy companions' ideas had not all
the plainness desirable.
"Suppose we do not return to the Nautilus this evening?" said Conseil.
"Suppose we never return?" added Ned Land.
Just then a stone fell at our feet and cut short the harpooner's
proposition.
Chapter XXI. CAPTAIN NEMO'S THUNDERBOLT
We looked at the edge of the forest without rising, my hand stopping in
the action of putting it to my mouth, Ned Land's completing its office.
"Stones do not fall from the sky," remarked Conseil, "or they would
merit the name aerolites."
A second stone, carefully aimed, that made a savoury pigeon's leg fall
from Conseil's hand, gave still more weight to his observation. We all
three arose, shouldered our guns, and were ready to reply to any attack.
"Are they apes?" cried Ned Land.
"Very nearly-they are savages."
"To the boat!" I said, hurrying to the sea.
It was indeed necessary to beat a retreat, for about twenty natives
armed with bows and slings appeared on the skirts of a copse that masked
the horizon to the right, hardly a hundred steps from us.
Our boat was moored about sixty feet from us. The savages approached
us, not running, but making hostile demonstrations. Stones and arrows fell
thickly.
Ned Land had not wished to leave his provisions; and, in spite of his
imminent danger, his pig on one side and kangaroos on the other, he went
tolerably fast. In two minutes we were on the shore. To load the boat with
provisions and arms, to push it out to sea, and ship the oars, was the
work of an instant. We had not gone two cable-lengths, when a hundred
savages, howling and gesticulating, entered the water up to their waists.
I watched to see if their apparition would attract some men from the
Nautilus on to the platform. But no. The enormous machine, lying off, was
absolutely deserted.
Twenty minutes later we were on board. The panels were open. After
making the boat fast, we entered into the interior of the Nautilus.
I descended to the drawing-room, from whence I heard some chords.
Captain Nemo was there, bending over his organ, and plunged in a musical
ecstasy.
"Captain!"
He did not hear me.
"Captain!" I said, touching his hand.
He shuddered, and, turning round, said, "Ah! it is you, Professor?
Well, have you had a good hunt, have you botanised successfully?"
"Yes Captain; but we have unfortunately brought a troop of bipeds,
whose vicinity troubles me."
"What bipeds?"
"Savages."
"Savages!" he echoed, ironically. "So you are astonished, Professor, at
having set foot on a strange land and finding savages? Savages! where are
there not any? Besides, are they worse than others, these whom you call
savages?"
"But Captain-"
"How many have you counted?"
"A hundred at least."
"M. Aronnax," replied Captain Nemo, placing his fingers on the organ
stops, "when all the natives of Papua are assembled on this shore, the
Nautilus will have nothing to fear from their attacks."
The Captain's fingers were then running over the keys of the
instrument, and I remarked that he touched only the black keys, which gave
his melodies an essentially Scotch character. Soon he had forgotten my
presence, and had plunged into a reverie that I did not disturb. I went up
again on to the platform: night had already fallen; for, in this low
latitude, the sun sets rapidly and without twilight. I could only see the
island indistinctly; but the numerous fires, lighted on the beach, showed
that the natives did not think of leaving it. I was alone for several
hours, sometimes thinking of the natives- but without any dread of them,
for the imperturbable confidence of the Captain was catching-sometimes
forgetting them to admire the splendours of the night in the tropics. My
remembrances went to France in the train of those zodiacal stars that
would shine in some hours' time. The moon shone in the midst of the
constellations of the zenith.
The night slipped away without any mischance, the islanders frightened
no doubt at the sight of a monster aground in the bay. The panels were
open, and would have offered an easy access to the interior of the
Nautilus.
At six o'clock in the morning of the 8th January I went up on to the
platform. The dawn was breaking. The island soon showed itself through the
dissipating fogs, first the shore, then the summits.
The natives were there, more numerous than on the day before- five or
six hundred perhaps-some of them, profiting by the low water, had come on
to the coral, at less than two cable-lengths from the Nautilus. I
distinguished them easily; they were true Papuans, with athletic figures,
men of good race, large high foreheads, large, but not broad and flat, and
white teeth. Their woolly hair, with a reddish tinge, showed off on their
black shining bodies like those of the Nubians. From the lobes of their
ears, cut and distended, hung chaplets of bones. Most of these savages
were naked. Amongst them, I remarked some women, dressed from the hips to
knees in quite a crinoline of herbs, that sustained a vegetable waistband.
Some chiefs had ornamented their necks with a crescent and collars of
glass beads, red and white; nearly all were armed with bows, arrows, and
shields and carried on their shoulders a sort of net containing those
round stones which they cast from their slings with great skill. One of
these chiefs, rather near to the Nautilus, examined it attentively. He
was, perhaps, a "mado" of high rank, for he was draped in a mat of
banana-leaves, notched round the edges, and set off with brilliant
colours.
I could easily have knocked down this native, who was within a short
length; but I thought that it was better to wait for real hostile
demonstrations. Between Europeans and savages, it is proper for the
Europeans to parry sharply, not to attack.
During low water the natives roamed about near the Nautilus, but were
not troublesome; I heard them frequently repeat the word "Assai," and by
their gestures I understood that they invited me to go on land, an
invitation that I declined.
So that, on that day, the boat did not push off, to the great
displeasure of Master Land, who could not complete his provisions.
This adroit Canadian employed his time in preparing the viands and meat
that he had brought off the island. As for the savages, they returned to
the shore about eleven o'clock in the morning, as soon as the coral tops
began to disappear under the rising tide; but I saw their numbers had
increased considerably on the shore. Probably they came from the
neighbouring islands, or very likely from Papua. However, I had not seen a
single native canoe. Having nothing better to do, I thought of dragging
these beautiful limpid waters, under which I saw a profusion of shells,
zoophytes, and marine plants. Moreover, it was the last day that the
Nautilus would pass in these parts, if it float in open sea the next day,
according to Captain Nemo's promise.
I therefore called Conseil, who brought me a little light drag, very
like those for the oyster fishery. Now to work! For two hours we fished
unceasingly, but without bringing up any rarities. The drag was filled
with midas-ears, harps, melames, and particularly the most beautiful
hammers I have ever seen. We also brought up some sea-slugs,
pearl-oysters, and a dozen little turtles that were reserved for the
pantry on board.
But just when I expected it least, I put my hand on a wonder, I might
say a natural deformity, very rarely met with. Conseil was just dragging,
and his net came up filled with divers ordinary shells, when, all at once,
he saw me plunge my arm quickly into the net, to draw out a shell, and
heard me utter a cry.
"What is the matter, sir?" he asked in surprise. "Has master been
bitten?"
"No, my boy; but I would willingly have given a finger for my discovery."
"What discovery?"
"This shell," I said, holding up the object of my triumph.
"It is simply an olive porphyry." {genus species missing}
"Yes, Conseil; but, instead of being rolled from right to left, this
olive turns from left to right."
"Is it possible?"
"Yes, my boy; it is a left shell."
Shells are all right-handed, with rare exceptions; and, when by chance
their spiral is left, amateurs are ready to pay their weight in gold.
Conseil and I were absorbed in the contemplation of our treasure, and I
was promising myself to enrich the museum with it, when a stone
unfortunately thrown by a native struck against, and broke, the precious
object in Conseil's hand. I uttered a cry of despair! Conseil took up his
gun, and aimed at a savage who was poising his sling at ten yards from
him. I would have stopped him, but his blow took effect and broke the
bracelet of amulets which encircled the arm of the savage.
"Conseil!" cried I. "Conseil!"
"Well, sir! do you not see that the cannibal has commenced the attack?"
"A shell is not worth the life of a man," said I.
"Ah! the scoundrel!" cried Conseil; "I would rather he had broken my
shoulder!"
Conseil was in earnest, but I was not of his opinion. However, the
situation had changed some minutes before, and we had not perceived. A
score of canoes surrounded the Nautilus. These canoes, scooped out of the
trunk of a tree, long, narrow, well adapted for speed, were balanced by
means of a long bamboo pole, which floated on the water. They were managed
by skilful, half-naked paddlers, and I watched their advance with some
uneasiness. It was evident that these Papuans had already had dealings
with the Europeans and knew their ships. But this long iron cylinder
anchored in the bay, without masts or chimneys, what could they think of
it? Nothing good, for at first they kept at a respectful distance.
However, seeing it motionless, by degrees they took courage, and sought to
familiarise themselves with it. Now this familiarity was precisely what it
was necessary to avoid. Our arms, which were noiseless, could only produce
a moderate effect on the savages, who have little respect for aught but
blustering things. The thunderbolt without the reverberations of thunder
would frighten man but little, though the danger lies in the lightning,
not in the noise.
At this moment the canoes approached the Nautilus, and a shower of
arrows alighted on her.
I went down to the saloon, but found no one there. I ventured to knock
at the door that opened into the Captain's room. "Come in," was the
answer.
I entered, and found Captain Nemo deep in algebraical calculations of x
and other quantities.
"I am disturbing you," said I, for courtesy's sake.
"That is true, M. Aronnax," replied the Captain; "but I think you have
serious reasons for wishing to see me?"
"Very grave ones; the natives are surrounding us in their canoes, and
in a few minutes we shall certainly be attacked by many hundreds of
savages."
"Ah!," said Captain Nemo quietly, "they are come with their canoes?"
"Yes, sir."
"Well, sir, we must close the hatches."
"Exactly, and I came to say to you-"
"Nothing can be more simple," said Captain Nemo. And, pressing an
electric button, he transmitted an order to the ship's crew.
"It is all done, sir," said he, after some moments. "The pinnace is
ready, and the hatches are closed. You do not fear, I imagine, that these
gentlemen could stave in walls on which the balls of your frigate have had
no effect?"
"No, Captain; but a danger still exists."
"What is that, sir?"
"It is that to-morrow, at about this hour, we must open the hatches to
renew the air of the Nautilus. Now, if, at this moment, the Papuans should
occupy the platform, I do not see how you could prevent them from
entering."
"Then, sir, you suppose that they will board us?"
"I am certain of it."
"Well, sir, let them come. I see no reason for hindering them. After
all, these Papuans are poor creatures, and I am unwilling that my visit to
the island should cost the life of a single one of these wretches."
Upon that I was going away; But Captain Nemo detained me, and asked me
to sit down by him. He questioned me with interest about our excursions on
shore, and our hunting; and seemed not to understand the craving for meat
that possessed the Canadian. Then the conversation turned on various
subjects, and, without being more communicative, Captain Nemo showed
himself more amiable.
Amongst other things, we happened to speak of the situation of the
Nautilus, run aground in exactly the same spot in this strait where Dumont
d'Urville was nearly lost. Apropos of this:
"This D'Urville was one of your great sailors," said the Captain to me,
"one of your most intelligent navigators. He is the Captain Cook of you
Frenchmen. Unfortunate man of science, after having braved the icebergs of
the South Pole, the coral reefs of Oceania, the cannibals of the Pacific,
to perish miserably in a railway train! If this energetic man could have
reflected during the last moments of his life, what must have been
uppermost in his last thoughts, do you suppose?"
So speaking, Captain Nemo seemed moved, and his emotion gave me a
better opinion of him. Then, chart in hand, we reviewed the travels of the
French navigator, his voyages of circumnavigation, his double detention at
the South Pole, which led to the discovery of Adelaide and Louis Philippe,
and fixing the hydrographical bearings of the principal islands of
Oceania.
"That which your D'Urville has done on the surface of the seas," said
Captain Nemo, "that have I done under them, and more easily, more
completely than he. The Astrolabe and the Zelee, incessantly tossed about
by the hurricane, could not be worth the Nautilus, quiet repository of
labour that she is, truly motionless in the midst of the waters.
"To-morrow," added the Captain, rising, "to-morrow, at twenty minutes
to three p.m., the Nautilus shall float, and leave the Strait of Torres
uninjured."
Having curtly pronounced these words, Captain Nemo bowed slightly. This
was to dismiss me, and I went back to my room.
There I found Conseil, who wished to know the result of my interview
with the Captain.
"My boy," said I, "when I feigned to believe that his Nautilus was
threatened by the natives of Papua, the Captain answered me very
sarcastically. I have but one thing to say to you: Have confidence in him,
and go to sleep in peace."
"Have you no need of my services, sir?"
"No, my friend. What is Ned Land doing?"
"If you will excuse me, sir," answered Conseil, "friend Ned is busy
making a kangaroo-pie which will be a marvel."
I remained alone and went to bed, but slept indifferently. I heard the
noise of the savages, who stamped on the platform, uttering deafening
cries. The night passed thus, without disturbing the ordinary repose of
the crew. The presence of these cannibals affected them no more than the
soldiers of a masked battery care for the ants that crawl over its front.
At six in the morning I rose. The hatches had not been opened. The
inner air was not renewed, but the reservoirs, filled ready for any
emergency, were now resorted to, and discharged several cubic feet of
oxygen into the exhausted atmosphere of the Nautilus.
I worked in my room till noon, without having seen Captain Nemo, even
for an instant. On board no preparations for departure were visible.
I waited still some time, then went into the large saloon. The clock
marked half-past two. In ten minutes it would be high-tide: and, if
Captain Nemo had not made a rash promise, the Nautilus would be
immediately detached. If not, many months would pass ere she could leave
her bed of coral.
However, some warning vibrations began to be felt in the vessel. I
heard the keel grating against the rough calcareous bottom of the coral
reef.
At five-and-twenty minutes to three, Captain Nemo appeared in the
saloon.
"We are going to start," said he.
"Ah!" replied I.
"I have given the order to open the hatches."
"And the Papuans?"
"The Papuans?" answered Captain Nemo, slightly shrugging his shoulders.
"Will they not come inside the Nautilus?"
"How?"
"Only by leaping over the hatches you have opened."
"M. Aronnax," quietly answered Captain Nemo, "they will not enter the
hatches of the Nautilus in that way, even if they were open."
I looked at the Captain.
"You do not understand?" said he.
"Hardly."
"Well, come and you will see."
I directed my steps towards the central staircase. There Ned Land and
Conseil were slyly watching some of the ship's crew, who were opening the
hatches, while cries of rage and fearful vociferations resounded outside.
The port lids were pulled down outside. Twenty horrible faces appeared.
But the first native who placed his hand on the stair-rail, struck from
behind by some invisible force, I know not what, fled, uttering the most
fearful cries and making the wildest contortions.
Ten of his companions followed him. They met with the same fate.
Conseil was in ecstasy. Ned Land, carried away by his violent
instincts, rushed on to the staircase. But the moment he seized the rail
with both hands, he, in his turn, was overthrown.
"I am struck by a thunderbolt," cried he, with an oath.
This explained all. It was no rail; but a metallic cable charged with
electricity from the deck communicating with the platform. Whoever touched
it felt a powerful shock- and this shock would have been mortal if Captain
Nemo had discharged into the conductor the whole force of the current. It
might truly be said that between his assailants and himself he had
stretched a network of electricity which none could pass with impunity.
Meanwhile, the exasperated Papuans had beaten a retreat paralysed with
terror. As for us, half laughing, we consoled and rubbed the unfortunate
Ned Land, who swore like one possessed.
But at this moment the Nautilus, raised by the last waves of the tide,
quitted her coral bed exactly at the fortieth minute fixed by the Captain.
Her screw swept the waters slowly and majestically. Her speed increased
gradually, and, sailing on the surface of the ocean, she quitted safe and
sound the dangerous passes of the Straits of Torres.
Chapter XXII. "AEGRI SOMNIA"
The following day 10th January, the Nautilus continued her course
between two seas, but with such remarkable speed that I could not estimate
it at less than thirty-five miles an hour. The rapidity of her screw was
such that I could neither follow nor count its revolutions. When I
reflected that this marvellous electric agent, after having afforded
motion, heat, and light to the Nautilus, still protected her from outward
attack, and transformed her into an ark of safety which no profane hand
might touch without being thunderstricken, my admiration was unbounded,
and from the structure it extended to the engineer who had called it into
existence.
Our course was directed to the west, and on the 11th of January we
doubled Cape Wessel, situation in 135O long. and 10O S. lat., which forms
the east point of the Gulf of Carpentaria. The reefs were still numerous,
but more equalised, and marked on the chart with extreme precision. The
Nautilus easily avoided the breakers of Money to port and the Victoria
reefs to starboard, placed at 130O long. and on the 10th parallel, which
we strictly followed.
On the 13th of January, Captain Nemo arrived in the Sea of Timor, and
recognised the island of that name in 122O long.
From this point the direction of the Nautilus inclined towards the
south-west. Her head was set for the Indian Ocean. Where would the fancy
of Captain Nemo carry us next? Would he return to the coast of Asia or
would he approach again the shores of Europe? Improbable conjectures both,
to a man who fled from inhabited continents. Then would he descend to the
south? Was he going to double the Cape of Good Hope, then Cape Horn, and
finally go as far as the Antarctic pole? Would he come back at last to the
Pacific, where his Nautilus could sail free and independently? Time would
show.
After having skirted the sands of Cartier, of Hibernia, Seringapatam,
and Scott, last efforts of the solid against the liquid element, on the
14th of January we lost sight of land altogether. The speed of the
Nautilus was considerably abated, and with irregular course she sometimes
swam in the bosom of the waters, sometimes floated on their surface.
During this period of the voyage, Captain Nemo made some interesting
experiments on the varied temperature of the sea, in different beds. Under
ordinary conditions these observations are made by means of rather
complicated instruments, and with somewhat doubtful results, by means of
thermometrical sounding-leads, the glasses often breaking under the
pressure of the water, or an apparatus grounded on the variations of the
resistance of metals to the electric currents. Results so obtained could
not be correctly calculated. On the contrary, Captain Nemo went himself to
test the temperature in the depths of the sea, and his thermometer, placed
in communication with the different sheets of water, gave him the required
degree immediately and accurately.
It was thus that, either by overloading her reservoirs or by descending
obliquely by means of her inclined planes, the Nautilus successively
attained the depth of three, four, five, seven, nine, and ten thousand
yards, and the definite result of this experience was that the sea
preserved an average temperature of four degrees and a half at a depth of
five thousand fathoms under all latitudes.
On the 16th of January, the Nautilus seemed becalmed only a few yards
beneath the surface of the waves. Her electric apparatus remained inactive
and her motionless screw left her to drift at the mercy of the currents. I
supposed that the crew was occupied with interior repairs, rendered
necessary by the violence of the mechanical movements of the machine.
My companions and I then witnessed a curious spectacle. The hatches of
the saloon were open, and, as the beacon light of the Nautilus was not in
action, a dim obscurity reigned in the midst of the waters. I observed the
state of the sea, under these conditions, and the largest fish appeared to
me no more than scarcely defined shadows, when the Nautilus found herself
suddenly transported into full light. I thought at first that the beacon
had been lighted, and was casting its electric radiance into the liquid
mass. I was mistaken, and after a rapid survey perceived my error.
The Nautilus floated in the midst of a phosphorescent bed which, in
this obscurity, became quite dazzling. It was produced by myriads of
luminous animalculae, whose brilliancy was increased as they glided over
the metallic hull of the vessel. I was surprised by lightning in the midst
of these luminous sheets, as though they bad been rivulets of lead melted
in an ardent furnace or metallic masses brought to a white heat, so that,
by force of contrast, certain portions of light appeared to cast a shade
in the midst of the general ignition, from which all shade seemed
banished. No; this was not the calm irradiation of our ordinary lightning.
There was unusual life and vigour: this was truly living light!
In reality, it was an infinite agglomeration of coloured infusoria, of
veritable globules of jelly, provided with a threadlike tentacle, and of
which as many as twenty-five thousand have been counted in less than two
cubic half-inches of water.
During several hours the Nautilus floated in these brilliant waves, and
our admiration increased as we watched the marine monsters disporting
themselves like salamanders. I saw there in the midst of this fire that
burns not the swift and elegant porpoise (the indefatigable clown of the
ocean), and some swordfish ten feet long, those prophetic heralds of the
hurricane whose formidable sword would now and then strike the glass of
the saloon. Then appeared the smaller fish, the balista, the leaping
mackerel, wolf-thorn-tails, and a hundred others which striped the
luminous atmosphere as they swam. This dazzling spectacle was enchanting!
Perhaps some atmospheric condition increased the intensity of this
phenomenon. Perhaps some storm agitated the surface of the waves. But at
this depth of some yards, the Nautilus was unmoved by its fury and reposed
peacefully in still water.
So we progressed, incessantly charmed by some new marvel. The days
passed rapidly away, and I took no account of them. Ned, according to
habit, tried to vary the diet on board. Like snails, we were fixed to our
shells, and I declare it is easy to lead a snail's life.
Thus this life seemed easy and natural, and we thought no longer of the
life we led on land; but something happened to recall us to the
strangeness of our situation.
On the 18th of January, the Nautilus was in 105O long. and 15O S. lat.
The weather was threatening, the sea rough and rolling. There was a strong
east wind. The barometer, which had been going down for some days,
foreboded a coming storm. I went up on to the platform just as the second
lieutenant was taking the measure of the horary angles, and waited,
according to habit till the daily phrase was said. But on this day it was
exchanged for another phrase not less incomprehensible. Almost directly, I
saw Captain Nemo appear with a glass, looking towards the horizon.
For some minutes he was immovable, without taking his eye off the point
of observation. Then he lowered his glass and exchanged a few words with
his lieutenant. The latter seemed to be a victim to some emotion that he
tried in vain to repress. Captain Nemo, having more command over himself,
was cool. He seemed, too, to be making some objections to which the
lieutenant replied by formal assurances. At least I concluded so by the
difference of their tones and gestures. For myself, I had looked carefully
in the direction indicated without seeing anything. The sky and water were
lost in the clear line of the horizon.
However, Captain Nemo walked from one end of the platform to the other,
without looking at me, perhaps without seeing me. His step was firm, but
less regular than usual. He stopped sometimes, crossed his arms, and
observed the sea. What could he be looking for on that immense expanse?
The Nautilus was then some hundreds of miles from the nearest coast.
The lieutenant had taken up the glass and examined the horizon
steadfastly, going and coming, stamping his foot and showing more nervous
agitation than his superior officer. Besides, this mystery must
necessarily be solved, and before long; for, upon an order from Captain
Nemo, the engine, increasing its propelling power, made the screw turn
more rapidly.
Just then the lieutenant drew the Captain's attention again. The latter
stopped walking and directed his glass towards the place indicated. He
looked long. I felt very much puzzled, and descended to the drawing-room,
and took out an excellent telescope that I generally used. Then, leaning
on the cage of the watch-light that jutted out from the front of the
platform, set myself to look over all the line of the sky and sea.
But my eye was no sooner applied to the glass than it was quickly
snatched out of my hands.
I turned round. Captain Nemo was before me, but I did not know him. His
face was transfigured. His eyes flashed sullenly; his teeth were set; his
stiff body, clenched fists, and head shrunk between his shoulders,
betrayed the violent agitation that pervaded his whole frame. He did not
move. My glass, fallen from his hands, had rolled at his feet.
Had I unwittingly provoked this fit of anger? Did this incomprehensible
person imagine that I had discovered some forbidden secret? No; I was not
the object of this hatred, for he was not looking at me; his eye was
steadily fixed upon the impenetrable point of the horizon. At last Captain
Nemo recovered himself. His agitation subsided. He addressed some words in
a foreign language to his lieutenant, then turned to me. "M. Aronnax," he
said, in rather an imperious tone, "I require you to keep one of the
conditions that bind you to me."
"What is it, Captain?"
"You must be confined, with your companions, until I think fit to
release you."
"You are the master," I replied, looking steadily at him. "But may I
ask you one question?"
"None, sir."
There was no resisting this imperious command, it would have been
useless. I went down to the cabin occupied by Ned Land and Conseil, and
told them the Captain's determination. You may judge how this
communication was received by the Canadian.
But there was not time for altercation. Four of the crew waited at the
door, and conducted us to that cell where we had passed our first night on
board the Nautilus.
Ned Land would have remonstrated, but the door was shut upon him.
"Will master tell me what this means?" asked Conseil.
I told my companions what had passed. They were as much astonished as
I, and equally at a loss how to account for it.
Meanwhile, I was absorbed in my own reflections, and could think of
nothing but the strange fear depicted in the Captain's countenance. I was
utterly at a loss to account for it, when my cogitations were disturbed by
these words from Ned Land:
"Hallo! breakfast is ready."
And indeed the table was laid. Evidently Captain Nemo had given this
order at the same time that he had hastened the speed of the Nautilus.
"Will master permit me to make a recommendation?" asked Conseil.
"Yes, my boy."
"Well, it is that master breakfasts. It is prudent, for we do not know
what may happen."
"You are right, Conseil."
"Unfortunately," said Ned Land, "they have only given us the ship's
fare."
"Friend Ned," asked Conseil, "what would you have said if the breakfast
had been entirely forgotten?"
This argument cut short the harpooner's recriminations.
We sat down to table. The meal was eaten in silence.
Just then the luminous globe that lighted the cell went out, and left
us in total darkness. Ned Land was soon asleep, and what astonished me was
that Conseil went off into a heavy slumber. I was thinking what could have
caused his irresistible drowsiness, when I felt my brain becoming
stupefied. In spite of my efforts to keep my eyes open, they would close.
A painful suspicion seized me. Evidently soporific substances had been
mixed with the food we had just taken. Imprisonment was not enough to
conceal Captain Nemo's projects from us, sleep was more necessary. I then
heard the panels shut. The undulations of the sea, which caused a slight
rolling motion, ceased. Had the Nautilus quitted the surface of the ocean?
Had it gone back to the motionless bed of water? I tried to resist sleep.
It was impossible. My breathing grew weak. I felt a mortal cold freeze my
stiffened and half-paralysed limbs. My eye lids, like leaden caps, fell
over my eyes. I could not raise them; a morbid sleep, full of
hallucinations, bereft me of my being. Then the visions disappeared, and
left me in complete insensibility.
Chapter XXIII. THE CORAL KINGDOM
The next day I woke with my head singularly clear. To my great
surprise, I was in my own room. My companions, no doubt, had been
reinstated in their cabin, without having perceived it any more than I. Of
what had passed during the night they were as ignorant as I was, and to
penetrate this mystery I only reckoned upon the chances of the future.
I then thought of quitting my room. Was I free again or a prisoner?
Quite free. I opened the door, went to the half-deck, went up the central
stairs. The panels, shut the evening before, were open. I went on to the
platform.
Ned Land and Conseil waited there for me. I questioned them; they knew
nothing. Lost in a heavy sleep in which they had been totally unconscious,
they had been astonished at finding themselves in their cabin.
As for the Nautilus, it seemed quiet and mysterious as ever. It floated
on the surface of the waves at a moderate pace. Nothing seemed changed on
board.
The second lieutenant then came on to the platform, and gave the usual
order below.
As for Captain Nemo, he did not appear.
Of the people on board, I only saw the impassive steward, who served me
with his usual dumb regularity.
About two o'clock, I was in the drawing-room, busied in arranging my
notes, when the Captain opened the door and appeared. I bowed. He made a
slight inclination in return, without speaking. I resumed my work, hoping
that he would perhaps give me some explanation of the events of the
preceding night. He made none. I looked at him. He seemed fatigued; his
heavy eyes had not been refreshed by sleep; his face looked very
sorrowful. He walked to and fro, sat down and got up again, took a chance
book, put it down, consulted his instruments without taking his habitual
notes, and seemed restless and uneasy. At last, he came up to me, and
said:
"Are you a doctor, M. Aronnax?"
I so little expected such a question that I stared some time at him
without answering.
"Are you a doctor?" he repeated. "Several of your colleagues have
studied medicine."
"Well," said I, "I am a doctor and resident surgeon to the hospital. I
practised several years before entering the museum."
"Very well, sir."
My answer had evidently satisfied the Captain. But, not knowing what he
would say next, I waited for other questions, reserving my answers
according to circumstances.
"M. Aronnax, will you consent to prescribe for one of my men?" be asked.
"Is he ill?"
"Yes."
"I am ready to follow you."
"Come, then."
I own my heart beat, I do not know why. I saw certain connection
between the illness of one of the crew and the events of the day before;
and this mystery interested me at least as much as the sick man.
Captain Nemo conducted me to the poop of the Nautilus, and took me into
a cabin situated near the sailors' quarters.
There, on a bed, lay a man about forty years of age, with a resolute
expression of countenance, a true type of an Anglo-Saxon.
I leant over him. He was not only ill, he was wounded. His head,
swathed in bandages covered with blood, lay on a pillow. I undid the
bandages, and the wounded man looked at me with his large eyes and gave no
sign of pain as I did it. It was a horrible wound. The skull, shattered by
some deadly weapon, left the brain exposed, which was much injured. Clots
of blood had formed in the bruised and broken mass, in colour like the
dregs of wine.
There was both contusion and suffusion of the brain. His breathing was
slow, and some spasmodic movements of the muscles agitated his face. I
felt his pulse. It was intermittent. The extremities of the body were
growing cold already, and I saw death must inevitably ensue. After
dressing the unfortunate man's wounds, I readjusted the bandages on his
head, and turned to Captain Nemo.
"What caused this wound?" I asked.
"What does it signify?" he replied, evasively. "A shock has broken one
of the levers of the engine, which struck myself. But your opinion as to
his state?"
I hesitated before giving it.
"You may speak," said the Captain. "This man does not understand
French."
I gave a last look at the wounded man.
"He will be dead in two hours."
"Can nothing save him?"
"Nothing."
Captain Nemo's hand contracted, and some tears glistened in his eyes,
which I thought incapable of shedding any.
For some moments I still watched the dying man, whose life ebbed
slowly. His pallor increased under the electric light that was shed over
his death-bed. I looked at his intelligent forehead, furrowed with
premature wrinkles, produced probably by misfortune and sorrow. I tried to
learn the secret of his life from the last words that escaped his lips.
"You can go now, M. Aronnax," said the Captain.
I left him in the dying man's cabin, and returned to my room much
affected by this scene. During the whole day, I was haunted by
uncomfortable suspicions, and at night I slept badly, and between my
broken dreams I fancied I heard distant sighs like the notes of a funeral
psalm. Were they the prayers of the dead, murmured in that language that I
could not understand?
The next morning I went on to the bridge. Captain Nemo was there before
me. As soon as he perceived me he came to me.
"Professor, will it be convenient to you to make a submarine excursion
to-day?"
"With my companions?" I asked.
"If they like."
"We obey your orders, Captain."
"Will you be so good then as to put on your cork jackets?"
It was not a question of dead or dying. I rejoined Ned Land and
Conseil, and told them of Captain Nemo's proposition. Conseil hastened to
accept it, and this time the Canadian seemed quite willing to follow our
example.
It was eight o'clock in the morning. At half-past eight we were
equipped for this new excursion, and provided with two contrivances for
light and breathing. The double door was open; and, accompanied by Captain
Nemo, who was followed by a dozen of the crew, we set foot, at a depth of
about thirty feet, on the solid bottom on which the Nautilus rested.
A slight declivity ended in an uneven bottom, at fifteen fathoms depth.
This bottom differed entirely from the one I had visited on my first
excursion under the waters of the Pacific Ocean. Here, there was no fine
sand, no submarine prairies, no sea-forest. I immediately recognised that
marvellous region in which, on that day, the Captain did the honours to
us. It was the coral kingdom.
The light produced a thousand charming varieties, playing in the midst
of the branches that were so vividly coloured. I seemed to see the
membraneous and cylindrical tubes tremble beneath the undulation of the
waters. I was tempted to gather their fresh petals, ornamented with
delicate tentacles, some just blown, the others budding, while a small
fish, swimming swiftly, touched them slightly, like flights of birds. But
if my hand approached these living flowers, these animated, sensitive
plants, the whole colony took alarm. The white petals re-entered their red
cases, the flowers faded as I looked, and the bush changed into a block of
stony knobs.
Chance had thrown me just by the most precious specimens of the
zoophyte. This coral was more valuable than that found in the
Mediterranean, on the coasts of France, Italy and Barbary. Its tints
justified the poetical names of "Flower of Blood," and "Froth of Blood,"
that trade has given to its most beautiful productions. Coral is sold for
L20 per ounce; and in this place the watery beds would make the fortunes
of a company of coral-divers. This precious matter, often confused with
other polypi, formed then the inextricable plots called "macciota," and on
which I noticed several beautiful specimens of pink coral.
{opening sentence missing} Real petrified thickets, long joints of
fantastic architecture, were disclosed before us. Captain Nemo placed
himself under a dark gallery, where by a slight declivity we reached a
depth of a hundred yards. The light from our lamps produced sometimes
magical effects, following the rough outlines of the natural arches and
pendants disposed like lustres, that were tipped with points of fire.
At last, after walking two hours, we had attained a depth of about
three hundred yards, that is to say, the extreme limit on which coral
begins to form. But there was no isolated bush, nor modest brushwood, at
the bottom of lofty trees. It was an immense forest of large mineral
vegetations, enormous petrified trees, united by garlands of elegant
sea-bindweed, all adorned with clouds and reflections. We passed freely
under their high branches, lost in the shade of the waves.
Captain Nemo had stopped. I and my companions halted, and, turning
round, I saw his men were forming a semi-circle round their chief.
Watching attentively, I observed that four of them carried on their
shoulders an object of an oblong shape.
We occupied, in this place, the centre of a vast glade surrounded by
the lofty foliage of the submarine forest. Our lamps threw over this place
a sort of clear twilight that singularly elongated the shadows on the
ground. At the end of the glade the darkness increased, and was only
relieved by little sparks reflected by the points of coral.
Ned Land and Conseil were near me. We watched, and I thought I was
going to witness a strange scene. On observing the ground, I saw that it
was raised in certain places by slight excrescences encrusted with limy
deposits, and disposed with a regularity that betrayed the hand of man.
In the midst of the glade, on a pedestal of rocks roughly piled up,
stood a cross of coral that extended its long arms that one might have
thought were made of petrified blood. Upon a sign from Captain Nemo one of
the men advanced; and at some feet from the cross he began to dig a hole
with a pickaxe that he took from his belt. I understood all! This glade
was a cemetery, this hole a tomb, this oblong object the body of the man
who had died in the night! The Captain and his men had come to bury their
companion in this general resting-place, at the bottom of this
inaccessible ocean!
The grave was being dug slowly; the fish fled on all sides while their
retreat was being thus disturbed; I heard the strokes of the pickaxe,
which sparkled when it hit upon some flint lost at the bottom of the
waters. The hole was soon large and deep enough to receive the body. Then
the bearers approached; the body, enveloped in a tissue of white linen,
was lowered into the damp grave. Captain Nemo, with his arms crossed on
his breast, and all the friends of him who had loved them, knelt in
prayer.
The grave was then filled in with the rubbish taken from the ground,
which formed a slight mound. When this was done, Captain Nemo and his men
rose; then, approaching the grave, they knelt again, and all extended
their hands in sign of a last adieu. Then the funeral procession returned
to the Nautilus, passing under the arches of the forest, in the midst of
thickets, along the coral bushes, and still on the ascent. At last the
light of the ship appeared, and its luminous track guided us to the
Nautilus. At one o'clock we had returned.
As soon as I had changed my clothes I went up on to the platform, and,
a prey to conflicting emotions, I sat down near the binnacle. Captain Nemo
joined me. I rose and said to him:
"So, as I said he would, this man died in the night?"
"Yes, M. Aronnax."
"And he rests now, near his companions, in the coral cemetery?"
"Yes, forgotten by all else, but not by us. We dug the grave, and the
polypi undertake to seal our dead for eternity." And, burying his face
quickly in his hands, he tried in vain to suppress a sob. Then he added:
"Our peaceful cemetery is there, some hundred feet below the surface of
the waves."
"Your dead sleep quietly, at least, Captain, out of the reach of
sharks."
"Yes, sir, of sharks and men," gravely replied the Captain.
Chapter I. THE INDIAN OCEAN
We now come to the second part of our journey under the sea. The first
ended with the moving scene in the coral cemetery which left such a deep
impression on my mind. Thus, in the midst of this great sea, Captain
Nemo's life was passing, even to his grave, which he had prepared in one
of its deepest abysses. There, not one of the ocean's monsters could
trouble the last sleep of the crew of the Nautilus, of those friends
riveted to each other in death as in life. "Nor any man, either," had
added the Captain. Still the same fierce, implacable defiance towards
human society!
I could no longer content myself with the theory which satisfied
Conseil.
That worthy fellow persisted in seeing in the Commander of the Nautilus
one of those unknown servants who return mankind contempt for
indifference. For him, he was a misunderstood genius who, tired of earth's
deceptions, had taken refuge in this inaccessible medium, where he might
follow his instincts freely. To my mind, this explains but one side of
Captain Nemo's character. Indeed, the mystery of that last night during
which we had been chained in prison, the sleep, and the precaution so
violently taken by the Captain of snatching from my eyes the glass I had
raised to sweep the horizon, the mortal wound of the man, due to an
unaccountable shock of the Nautilus, all put me on a new track. No;
Captain Nemo was not satisfied with shunning man. His formidable apparatus
not only suited his instinct of freedom, but perhaps also the design of
some terrible retaliation.
At this moment nothing is clear to me; I catch but a glimpse of light
amidst all the darkness, and I must confine myself to writing as events
shall dictate.
That day, the 24th of January, 1868, at noon, the second officer came
to take the altitude of the sun. I mounted the platform, lit a cigar, and
watched the operation. It seemed to me that the man did not understand
French; for several times I made remarks in a loud voice, which must have
drawn from him some involuntary sign of attention, if he had understood
them; but he remained undisturbed and dumb.
As he was taking observations with the sextant, one of the sailors of
the Nautilus (the strong man who had accompanied us on our first submarine
excursion to the Island of Crespo) came to clean the glasses of the
lantern. I examined the fittings of the apparatus, the strength of which
was increased a hundredfold by lenticular rings, placed similar to those
in a lighthouse, and which projected their brilliance in a horizontal
plane. The electric lamp was combined in such a way as to give its most
powerful light. Indeed, it was produced in vacuo, which insured both its
steadiness and its intensity. This vacuum economised the graphite points
between which the luminous arc was developed-an important point of economy
for Captain Nemo, who could not easily have replaced them; and under these
conditions their waste was imperceptible. When the Nautilus was ready to
continue its submarine journey, I went down to the saloon. The panel was
closed, and the course marked direct west.
We were furrowing the waters of the Indian Ocean, a vast liquid plain,
with a surface of 1,200,000,000 of acres, and whose waters are so clear
and transparent that any one leaning over them would turn giddy. The
Nautilus usually floated between fifty and a hundred fathoms deep. We went
on so for some days. To anyone but myself, who had a great love for the
sea, the hours would have seemed long and monotonous; but the daily walks
on the platform, when I steeped myself in the reviving air of the ocean,
the sight of the rich waters through the windows of the saloon, the books
in the library, the compiling of my memoirs, took up all my time, and left
me not a moment of ennui or weariness.
For some days we saw a great number of aquatic birds, sea-mews or
gulls. Some were cleverly killed and, prepared in a certain way, made very
acceptable water-game. Amongst large-winged birds, carried a long distance
from all lands and resting upon the waves from the fatigue of their
flight, I saw some magnificent albatrosses, uttering discordant cries like
the braying of an ass, and birds belonging to the family of the
long-wings.
As to the fish, they always provoked our admiration when we surprised
the secrets of their aquatic life through the open panels. I saw many
kinds which I never before had a chance of observing.
{3 paragraphs are missing}
From the 21st to the 23rd of January the Nautilus went at the rate of
two hundred and fifty leagues in twenty-four hours, being five hundred and
forty miles, or twenty-two miles an hour. If we recognised so many
different varieties of fish, it was because, attracted by the electric
light, they tried to follow us; the greater part, however, were soon
distanced by our speed, though some kept their place in the waters of the
Nautilus for a time. The morning of the 24th, in 12O 5' S. lat., and 94O
33' long., we observed Keeling Island, a coral formation, planted with
magnificent cocos, and which had been visited by Mr. Darwin and Captain
Fitzroy. The Nautilus skirted the shores of this desert island for a
little distance. Its nets brought up numerous specimens of polypi and
curious shells of mollusca. {one sentence stripped here}
Soon Keeling Island disappeared from the horizon, and our course was
directed to the north-west in the direction of the Indian Peninsula.
From Keeling Island our course was slower and more variable, often
taking us into great depths. Several times they made use of the inclined
planes, which certain internal levers placed obliquely to the waterline.
In that way we went about two miles, but without ever obtaining the
greatest depths of the Indian Sea, which soundings of seven thousand
fathoms have never reached. As to the temperature of the lower strata, the
thermometer invariably indicated 4O above zero. I only observed that in
the upper regions the water was always colder in the high levels than at
the surface of the sea.
On the 25th of January the ocean was entirely deserted; the Nautilus
passed the day on the surface, beating the waves with its powerful screw
and making them rebound to a great height. Who under such circumstances
would not have taken it for a gigantic cetacean? Three parts of this day I
spent on the platform. I watched the sea. Nothing on the horizon, till
about four o'clock a steamer running west on our counter. Her masts were
visible for an instant, but she could not see the Nautilus, being too low
in the water. I fancied this steamboat belonged to the P.O. Company, which
runs from Ceylon to Sydney, touching at King George's Point and Melbourne.
At five o'clock in the evening, before that fleeting twilight which
binds night to day in tropical zones, Conseil and I were astonished by a
curious spectacle.
It was a shoal of argonauts travelling along on the surface of the
ocean. We could count several hundreds. They belonged to the tubercle kind
which are peculiar to the Indian seas.
These graceful molluscs moved backwards by means of their locomotive
tube, through which they propelled the water already drawn in. Of their
eight tentacles, six were elongated, and stretched out floating on the
water, whilst the other two, rolled up flat, were spread to the wing like
a light sail. I saw their spiral-shaped and fluted shells, which Cuvier
justly compares to an elegant skiff. A boat indeed! It bears the creature
which secretes it without its adhering to it.
For nearly an hour the Nautilus floated in the midst of this shoal of
molluscs. Then I know not what sudden fright they took. But as if at a
signal every sail was furled, the arms folded, the body drawn in, the
shells turned over, changing their centre of gravity, and the whole fleet
disappeared under the waves. Never did the ships of a squadron manoeuvre
with more unity.
At that moment night fell suddenly, and the reeds, scarcely raised by
the breeze, lay peaceably under the sides of the Nautilus.
The next day, 26th of January, we cut the equator at the eighty-second
meridian and entered the northern hemisphere. During the day a formidable
troop of sharks accompanied us, terrible creatures, which multiply in
these seas and make them very dangerous. They were "cestracio philippi"
sharks, with brown backs and whitish bellies, armed with eleven rows of
teeth- eyed sharks-their throat being marked with a large black spot
surrounded with white like an eye. There were also some Isabella sharks,
with rounded snouts marked with dark spots. These powerful creatures often
hurled themselves at the windows of the saloon with such violence as to
make us feel very insecure. At such times Ned Land was no longer master of
himself. He wanted to go to the surface and harpoon the monsters,
particularly certain smooth-hound sharks, whose mouth is studded with
teeth like a mosaic; and large tiger-sharks nearly six yards long, the
last named of which seemed to excite him more particularly. But the
Nautilus, accelerating her speed, easily left the most rapid of them
behind.
The 27th of January, at the entrance of the vast Bay of Bengal, we met
repeatedly a forbidding spectacle, dead bodies floating on the surface of
the water. They were the dead of the Indian villages, carried by the
Ganges to the level of the sea, and which the vultures, the only
undertakers of the country, had not been able to devour. But the sharks
did not fail to help them at their funeral work.
About seven o'clock in the evening, the Nautilus, half-immersed, was
sailing in a sea of milk. At first sight the ocean seemed lactified. Was
it the effect of the lunar rays? No; for the moon, scarcely two days old,
was still lying hidden under the horizon in the rays of the sun. The whole
sky, though lit by the sidereal rays, seemed black by contrast with the
whiteness of the waters.
Conseil could not believe his eyes, and questioned me as to the cause
of this strange phenomenon. Happily I was able to answer him.
"It is called a milk sea," I explained. "A large extent of white
wavelets often to be seen on the coasts of Amboyna, and in these parts of
the sea."
"But, sir," said Conseil, "can you tell me what causes such an effect?
for I suppose the water is not really turned into milk."
"No, my boy; and the whiteness which surprises you is caused only by
the presence of myriads of infusoria, a sort of luminous little worm,
gelatinous and without colour, of the thickness of a hair, and whose
length is not more than seven-thousandths of an inch. These insects adhere
to one another sometimes for several leagues."
"Several leagues!" exclaimed Conseil.
"Yes, my boy; and you need not try to compute the number of these
infusoria. You will not be able, for, if I am not mistaken, ships have
floated on these milk seas for more than forty miles."
Towards midnight the sea suddenly resumed its usual colour; but behind
us, even to the limits of the horizon, the sky reflected the whitened
waves, and for a long time seemed impregnated with the vague glimmerings
of an aurora borealis.
Chapter II. A NOVEL PROPOSAL OF CAPTAIN NEMO'S
On the 28th of February, when at noon the Nautilus came to the surface
of the sea, in 9O 4' N. lat., there was land in sight about eight miles to
westward. The first thing I noticed was a range of mountains about two
thousand feet high, the shapes of which were most capricious. On taking
the bearings, I knew that we were nearing the island of Ceylon, the pearl
which hangs from the lobe of the Indian Peninsula.
Captain Nemo and his second appeared at this moment. The Captain
glanced at the map. Then turning to me, said:
"The Island of Ceylon, noted for its pearl-fisheries. Would you like to
visit one of them, M. Aronnax?"
"Certainly, Captain."
"Well, the thing is easy. Though, if we see the fisheries, we shall not
see the fishermen. The annual exportation has not yet begun. Never mind, I
will give orders to make for the Gulf of Manaar, where we shall arrive in
the night."
The Captain said something to his second, who immediately went out.
Soon the Nautilus returned to her native element, and the manometer showed
that she was about thirty feet deep.
"Well, sir," said Captain Nemo, "you and your companions shall visit
the Bank of Manaar, and if by chance some fisherman should be there, we
shall see him at work."
"Agreed, Captain!"
"By the bye, M. Aronnax you are not afraid of sharks?"
"Sharks!" exclaimed I.
This question seemed a very hard one.
"Well?" continued Captain Nemo.
"I admit, Captain, that I am not yet very familiar with that kind of
fish."
"We are accustomed to them," replied Captain Nemo, "and in time you
will be too. However, we shall be armed, and on the road we may be able to
hunt some of the tribe. It is interesting. So, till to-morrow, sir, and
early."
This said in a careless tone, Captain Nemo left the saloon. Now, if you
were invited to hunt the bear in the mountains of Switzerland, what would
you say?
"Very well! to-morrow we will go and hunt the bear." If you were asked
to hunt the lion in the plains of Atlas, or the tiger in the Indian
jungles, what would you say?
"Ha! ha! it seems we are going to hunt the tiger or the lion!" But when
you are invited to hunt the shark in its natural element, you would
perhaps reflect before accepting the invitation. As for myself, I passed
my hand over my forehead, on which stood large drops of cold perspiration.
"Let us reflect," said I, "and take our time. Hunting otters in submarine
forests, as we did in the Island of Crespo, will pass; but going up and
down at the bottom of the sea, where one is almost certain to meet sharks,
is quite another thing! I know well that in certain countries,
particularly in the Andaman Islands, the negroes never hesitate to attack
them with a dagger in one hand and a running noose in the other; but I
also know that few who affront those creatures ever return alive. However,
I am not a negro, and if I were I think a little hesitation in this case
would not be ill-timed."
At this moment Conseil and the Canadian entered, quite composed, and
even joyous. They knew not what awaited them.
"Faith, sir," said Ned Land, "your Captain Nemo-the devil take him!-
has just made us a very pleasant offer."
"Ah!" said I, "you know?"
"If agreeable to you, sir," interrupted Conseil, "the commander of the
Nautilus has invited us to visit the magnificent Ceylon fisheries
to-morrow, in your company; he did it kindly, and behaved like a real
gentleman."
"He said nothing more?"
"Nothing more, sir, except that he had already spoken to you of this
little walk."
"Sir," said Conseil, "would you give us some details of the pearl
fishery?"
"As to the fishing itself," I asked, "or the incidents, which?"
"On the fishing," replied the Canadian; "before entering upon the
ground, it is as well to know something about it."
"Very well; sit down, my friends, and I will teach you."
Ned and Conseil seated themselves on an ottoman, and the first thing
the Canadian asked was:
"Sir, what is a pearl?"
"My worthy Ned," I answered, "to the poet, a pearl is a tear of the
sea; to the Orientals, it is a drop of dew solidified; to the ladies, it
is a jewel of an oblong shape, of a brilliancy of mother-of-pearl
substance, which they wear on their fingers, their necks, or their ears;
for the chemist it is a mixture of phosphate and carbonate of lime, with a
little gelatine; and lastly, for naturalists, it is simply a morbid
secretion of the organ that produces the mother-of-pearl amongst certain
bivalves."
"Branch of molluscs," said Conseil.
"Precisely so, my learned Conseil; and, amongst these testacea the
earshell, the tridacnae, the turbots, in a word, all those which secrete
mother-of-pearl, that is, the blue, bluish, violet, or white substance
which lines the interior of their shells, are capable of producing
pearls."
"Mussels too?" asked the Canadian.
"Yes, mussels of certain waters in Scotland, Wales, Ireland, Saxony,
Bohemia, and France."
"Good! For the future I shall pay attention," replied the Canadian.
"But," I continued, "the particular mollusc which secretes the pearl is
the pearl-oyster. The pearl is nothing but a formation deposited in a
globular form, either adhering to the oyster-shell or buried in the folds
of the creature. On the shell it is fast: in the flesh it is loose; but
always has for a kernel a small hard substance, maybe a barren egg, maybe
a grain of sand, around which the pearly matter deposits itself year after
year successively, and by thin concentric layers." {this paragraph is
edited}
"Are many pearls found in the same oyster?" asked Conseil.
"Yes, my boy. Some are a perfect casket. One oyster has been mentioned,
though I allow myself to doubt it, as having contained no less than a
hundred and fifty sharks."
"A hundred and fifty sharks!" exclaimed Ned Land.
"Did I say sharks?" said I hurriedly. "I meant to say a hundred and
fifty pearls. Sharks would not be sense."
"Certainly not," said Conseil; "but will you tell us now by what means
they extract these pearls?"
"They proceed in various ways. When they adhere to the shell, the
fishermen often pull them off with pincers; but the most common way is to
lay the oysters on mats of the seaweed which covers the banks. Thus they
die in the open air; and at the end of ten days they are in a forward
state of decomposition. They are then plunged into large reservoirs of
sea-water; then they are opened and washed."
"The price of these pearls varies according to their size?" asked
Conseil.
"Not only according to their size," I answered, "but also according to
their shape, their water (that is, their colour), and their lustre: that
is, that bright and diapered sparkle which makes them so charming to the
eye. The most beautiful are called virgin pearls, or paragons. They are
formed alone in the tissue of the mollusc, are white, often opaque, and
sometimes have the transparency of an opal; they are generally round or
oval. The round are made into bracelets, the oval into pendants, and,
being more precious, are sold singly. Those adhering to the shell of the
oyster are more irregular in shape, and are sold by weight. Lastly, in a
lower order are classed those small pearls known under the name of
seed-pearls; they are sold by measure, and are especially used in
embroidery for church ornaments."
"But," said Conseil, "is this pearl-fishery dangerous?"
"No," I answered, quickly; "particularly if certain precautions are
taken."
"What does one risk in such a calling?" said Ned Land, "the swallowing
of some mouthfuls of sea-water?"
"As you say, Ned. By the bye," said I, trying to take Captain Nemo's
careless tone, "are you afraid of sharks, brave Ned?"
"I!" replied the Canadian; "a harpooner by profession? It is my trade
to make light of them."
"But," said I, "it is not a question of fishing for them with an
iron-swivel, hoisting them into the vessel, cutting off their tails with a
blow of a chopper, ripping them up, and throwing their heart into the
sea!"
"Then, it is a question of-"
"Precisely."
"In the water?"
"In the water."
"Faith, with a good harpoon! You know, sir, these sharks are
ill-fashioned beasts. They turn on their bellies to seize you, and in that
time-"
Ned Land had a way of saying "seize" which made my blood run cold.
"Well, and you, Conseil, what do you think of sharks?"
"Me!" said Conseil. "I will be frank, sir."
"So much the better," thought I.
"If you, sir, mean to face the sharks, I do not see why your faithful
servant should not face them with you."
Chapter III. A PEARL OF TEN MILLIONS
The next morning at four o'clock I was awakened by the steward whom
Captain Nemo had placed at my service. I rose hurriedly, dressed, and went
into the saloon.
Captain Nemo was awaiting me.
"M. Aronnax," said he, "are you ready to start?"
"I am ready."
"Then please to follow me."
"And my companions, Captain?"
"They have been told and are waiting."
"Are we not to put on our diver's dresses?" asked I.
"Not yet. I have not allowed the Nautilus to come too near this coast,
and we are some distance from the Manaar Bank; but the boat is ready, and
will take us to the exact point of disembarking, which will save us a long
way. It carries our diving apparatus, which we will put on when we begin
our submarine journey."
Captain Nemo conducted me to the central staircase, which led on the
platform. Ned and Conseil were already there, delighted at the idea of the
"pleasure party" which was preparing. Five sailors from the Nautilus, with
their oars, waited in the boat, which had been made fast against the side.
The night was still dark. Layers of clouds covered the sky, allowing
but few stars to be seen. I looked on the side where the land lay, and saw
nothing but a dark line enclosing three parts of the horizon, from
south-west to north west. The Nautilus, having returned during the night
up the western coast of Ceylon, was now west of the bay, or rather gulf,
formed by the mainland and the Island of Manaar. There, under the dark
waters, stretched the pintadine bank, an inexhaustible field of pearls,
the length of which is more than twenty miles.
Captain Nemo, Ned Land, Conseil, and I took our places in the stern of
the boat. The master went to the tiller; his four companions leaned on
their oars, the painter was cast off, and we sheered off.
The boat went towards the south; the oarsmen did not hurry. I noticed
that their strokes, strong in the water, only followed each other every
ten seconds, according to the method generally adopted in the navy. Whilst
the craft was running by its own velocity, the liquid drops struck the
dark depths of the waves crisply like spats of melted lead. A little
billow, spreading wide, gave a slight roll to the boat, and some samphire
reeds flapped before it.
We were silent. What was Captain Nemo thinking of? Perhaps of the land
he was approaching, and which he found too near to him, contrary to the
Canadian's opinion, who thought it too far off. As to Conseil, he was
merely there from curiosity.
About half-past five the first tints on the horizon showed the upper
line of coast more distinctly. Flat enough in the east, it rose a little
to the south. Five miles still lay between us, and it was indistinct owing
to the mist on the water. At six o'clock it became suddenly daylight, with
that rapidity peculiar to tropical regions, which know neither dawn nor
twilight. The solar rays pierced the curtain of clouds, piled up on the
eastern horizon, and the radiant orb rose rapidly. I saw land distinctly,
with a few trees scattered here and there. The boat neared Manaar Island,
which was rounded to the south. Captain Nemo rose from his seat and
watched the sea.
At a sign from him the anchor was dropped, but the chain scarcely ran,
for it was little more than a yard deep, and this spot was one of the
highest points of the bank of pintadines.
"Here we are, M. Aronnax," said Captain Nemo. "You see that enclosed
bay? Here, in a month will be assembled the numerous fishing boats of the
exporters, and these are the waters their divers will ransack so boldly.
Happily, this bay is well situated for that kind of fishing. It is
sheltered from the strongest winds; the sea is never very rough here,
which makes it favourable for the diver's work. We will now put on our
dresses, and begin our walk."
I did not answer, and, while watching the suspected waves, began with
the help of the sailors to put on my heavy sea-dress. Captain Nemo and my
companions were also dressing. None of the Nautilus men were to accompany
us on this new excursion.
Soon we were enveloped to the throat in india-rubber clothing; the air
apparatus fixed to our backs by braces. As to the Ruhmkorff apparatus,
there was no necessity for it. Before putting my head into the copper cap,
I had asked the question of the Captain.
"They would be useless," he replied. "We are going to no great depth,
and the solar rays will be enough to light our walk. Besides, it would not
be prudent to carry the electric light in these waters; its brilliancy
might attract some of the dangerous inhabitants of the coast most
inopportunely."
As Captain Nemo pronounced these words, I turned to Conseil and Ned
Land. But my two friends had already encased their heads in the metal cap,
and they could neither hear nor answer.
One last question remained to ask of Captain Nemo.
"And our arms?" asked I; "our guns?"
"Guns! What for? Do not mountaineers attack the bear with a dagger in
their hand, and is not steel surer than lead? Here is a strong blade; put
it in your belt, and we start."
I looked at my companions; they were armed like us, and, more than
that, Ned Land was brandishing an enormous harpoon, which he had placed in
the boat before leaving the Nautilus.
Then, following the Captain's example, I allowed myself to be dressed
in the heavy copper helmet, and our reservoirs of air were at once in
activity. An instant after we were landed, one after the other, in about
two yards of water upon an even sand. Captain Nemo made a sign with his
hand, and we followed him by a gentle declivity till we disappeared under
the waves.
{3 paragraphs missing}
At about seven o'clock we found ourselves at last surveying the
oyster-banks on which the pearl-oysters are reproduced by millions.
Captain Nemo pointed with his hand to the enormous heap of oysters; and
I could well understand that this mine was inexhaustible, for Nature's
creative power is far beyond man's instinct of destruction. Ned Land,
faithful to his instinct, hastened to fill a net which he carried by his
side with some of the finest specimens. But we could not stop. We must
follow the Captain, who seemed to guide him self by paths known only to
himself. The ground was sensibly rising, and sometimes, on holding up my
arm, it was above the surface of the sea. Then the level of the bank would
sink capriciously. Often we rounded high rocks scarped into pyramids. In
their dark fractures huge crustacea, perched upon their high claws like
some war-machine, watched us with fixed eyes, and under our feet crawled
various kinds of annelides.
At this moment there opened before us a large grotto dug in a
picturesque heap of rocks and carpeted with all the thick warp of the
submarine flora. At first it seemed very dark to me. The solar rays seemed
to be extinguished by successive gradations, until its vague transparency
became nothing more than drowned light. Captain Nemo entered; we followed.
My eyes soon accustomed themselves to this relative state of darkness. I
could distinguish the arches springing capriciously from natural pillars,
standing broad upon their granite base, like the heavy columns of Tuscan
architecture. Why had our incomprehensible guide led us to the bottom of
this submarine crypt? I was soon to know. After descending a rather sharp
declivity, our feet trod the bottom of a kind of circular pit. There
Captain Nemo stopped, and with his hand indicated an object I had not yet
perceived. It was an oyster of extraordinary dimensions, a gigantic
tridacne, a goblet which could have contained a whole lake of holy-water,
a basin the breadth of which was more than two yards and a half, and
consequently larger than that ornamenting the saloon of the Nautilus. I
approached this extraordinary mollusc. It adhered by its filaments to a
table of granite, and there, isolated, it developed itself in the calm
waters of the grotto. I estimated the weight of this tridacne at 600 lb.
Such an oyster would contain 30 lb. of meat; and one must have the stomach
of a Gargantua to demolish some dozens of them.
Captain Nemo was evidently acquainted with the existence of this
bivalve, and seemed to have a particular motive in verifying the actual
state of this tridacne. The shells were a little open; the Captain came
near and put his dagger between to prevent them from closing; then with
his hand he raised the membrane with its fringed edges, which formed a
cloak for the creature. There, between the folded plaits, I saw a loose
pearl, whose size equalled that of a coco-nut. Its globular shape, perfect
clearness, and admirable lustre made it altogether a jewel of inestimable
value. Carried away by my curiosity, I stretched out my hand to seize it,
weigh it, and touch it; but the Captain stopped me, made a sign of
refusal, and quickly withdrew his dagger, and the two shells closed
suddenly. I then understood Captain Nemo's intention. In leaving this
pearl hidden in the mantle of the tridacne he was allowing it to grow
slowly. Each year the secretions of the mollusc would add new concentric
circles. I estimated its value at L500,000 at least.
After ten minutes Captain Nemo stopped suddenly. I thought he had
halted previously to returning. No; by a gesture he bade us crouch beside
him in a deep fracture of the rock, his hand pointed to one part of the
liquid mass, which I watched attentively.
About five yards from me a shadow appeared, and sank to the ground. The
disquieting idea of sharks shot through my mind, but I was mistaken; and
once again it was not a monster of the ocean that we had anything to do
with.
It was a man, a living man, an Indian, a fisherman, a poor devil who, I
suppose, had come to glean before the harvest. I could see the bottom of
his canoe anchored some feet above his head. He dived and went up
successively. A stone held between his feet, cut in the shape of a sugar
loaf, whilst a rope fastened him to his boat, helped him to descend more
rapidly. This was all his apparatus. Reaching the bottom, about five yards
deep, he went on his knees and filled his bag with oysters picked up at
random. Then he went up, emptied it, pulled up his stone, and began the
operation once more, which lasted thirty seconds.
The diver did not see us. The shadow of the rock hid us from sight. And
how should this poor Indian ever dream that men, beings like himself,
should be there under the water watching his movements and losing no
detail of the fishing? Several times he went up in this way, and dived
again. He did not carry away more than ten at each plunge, for he was
obliged to pull them from the bank to which they adhered by means of their
strong byssus. And how many of those oysters for which he risked his life
had no pearl in them! I watched him closely; his manoeuvres were regular;
and for the space of half an hour no danger appeared to threaten him.
I was beginning to accustom myself to the sight of this interesting
fishing, when suddenly, as the Indian was on the ground, I saw him make a
gesture of terror, rise, and make a spring to return to the surface of the
sea.
I understood his dread. A gigantic shadow appeared just above the
unfortunate diver. It was a shark of enormous size advancing diagonally,
his eyes on fire, and his jaws open. I was mute with horror and unable to
move.
The voracious creature shot towards the Indian, who threw himself on
one side to avoid the shark's fins; but not its tail, for it struck his
chest and stretched him on the ground.
This scene lasted but a few seconds: the shark returned, and, turning
on his back, prepared himself for cutting the Indian in two, when I saw
Captain Nemo rise suddenly, and then, dagger in hand, walk straight to the
monster, ready to fight face to face with him. The very moment the shark
was going to snap the unhappy fisherman in two, he perceived his new
adversary, and, turning over, made straight towards him.
I can still see Captain Nemo's position. Holding himself well together,
he waited for the shark with admirable coolness; and, when it rushed at
him, threw himself on one side with wonderful quickness, avoiding the
shock, and burying his dagger deep into its side. But it was not all over.
A terrible combat ensued.
The shark had seemed to roar, if I might say so. The blood rushed in
torrents from its wound. The sea was dyed red, and through the opaque
liquid I could distinguish nothing more. Nothing more until the moment
when, like lightning, I saw the undaunted Captain hanging on to one of the
creature's fins, struggling, as it were, hand to hand with the monster,
and dealing successive blows at his enemy, yet still unable to give a
decisive one.
The shark's struggles agitated the water with such fury that the
rocking threatened to upset me.
I wanted to go to the Captain's assistance, but, nailed to the spot
with horror, I could not stir.
I saw the haggard eye; I saw the different phases of the fight. The
Captain fell to the earth, upset by the enormous mass which leant upon
him. The shark's jaws opened wide, like a pair of factory shears, and it
would have been all over with the Captain; but, quick as thought, harpoon
in hand, Ned Land rushed towards the shark and struck it with its sharp
point.
The waves were impregnated with a mass of blood. They rocked under the
shark's movements, which beat them with indescribable fury. Ned Land had
not missed his aim. It was the monster's death-rattle. Struck to the
heart, it struggled in dreadful convulsions, the shock of which overthrew
Conseil.
But Ned Land had disentangled the Captain, who, getting up without any
wound, went straight to the Indian, quickly cut the cord which held him to
his stone, took him in his arms, and, with a sharp blow of his heel,
mounted to the surface.
We all three followed in a few seconds, saved by a miracle, and reached
the fisherman's boat.
Captain Nemo's first care was to recall the unfortunate man to life
again. I did not think he could succeed. I hoped so, for the poor
creature's immersion was not long; but the blow from the shark's tail
might have been his death-blow.
Happily, with the Captain's and Conseil's sharp friction, I saw
consciousness return by degrees. He opened his eyes. What was his
surprise, his terror even, at seeing four great copper heads leaning over
him! And, above all, what must he have thought when Captain Nemo, drawing
from the pocket of his dress a bag of pearls, placed it in his hand! This
munificent charity from the man of the waters to the poor Cingalese was
accepted with a trembling hand. His wondering eyes showed that he knew not
to what super-human beings he owed both fortune and life.
At a sign from the Captain we regained the bank, and, following the
road already traversed, came in about half an hour to the anchor which
held the canoe of the Nautilus to the earth.
Once on board, we each, with the help of the sailors, got rid of the
heavy copper helmet.
Captain Nemo's first word was to the Canadian.
"Thank you, Master Land," said he.
"It was in revenge, Captain," replied Ned Land. "I owed you that."
A ghastly smile passed across the Captain's lips, and that was all.
"To the Nautilus," said he.
The boat flew over the waves. Some minutes after we met the shark's
dead body floating. By the black marking of the extremity of its fins, I
recognised the terrible melanopteron of the Indian Seas, of the species of
shark so properly called. It was more than twenty-five feet long; its
enormous mouth occupied one-third of its body. It was an adult, as was
known by its six rows of teeth placed in an isosceles triangle in the
upper jaw.
Whilst I was contemplating this inert mass, a dozen of these voracious
beasts appeared round the boat; and, without noticing us, threw themselves
upon the dead body and fought with one another for the pieces.
At half-past eight we were again on board the Nautilus. There I
reflected on the incidents which had taken place in our excursion to the
Manaar Bank.
Two conclusions I must inevitably draw from it-one bearing upon the
unparalleled courage of Captain Nemo, the other upon his devotion to a
human being, a representative of that race from which he fled beneath the
sea. Whatever he might say, this strange man had not yet succeeded in
entirely crushing his heart.
When I made this observation to him, he answered in a slightly moved
tone:
"That Indian, sir, is an inhabitant of an oppressed country; and I am
still, and shall be, to my last breath, one of them!"
In the course of the day of the 29th of January, the island of Ceylon
disappeared under the horizon, and the Nautilus, at a speed of twenty
miles an hour, slid into the labyrinth of canals which separate the
Maldives from the Laccadives. It coasted even the Island of Kiltan, a land
originally coraline, discovered by Vasco da Gama in 1499, and one of the
nineteen principal islands of the Laccadive Archipelago, situated between
10O and 14O 30' N. lat., and 69O 50' 72" E. long.
We had made 16,220 miles, or 7,500 (French) leagues from our
starting-point in the Japanese Seas.
The next day (30th January), when the Nautilus went to the surface of
the ocean there was no land in sight. Its course was N.N.E., in the
direction of the Sea of Oman, between Arabia and the Indian Peninsula,
which serves as an outlet to the Persian Gulf. It was evidently a block
without any possible egress. Where was Captain Nemo taking us to? I could
not say. This, however, did not satisfy the Canadian, who that day came to
me asking where we were going.
"We are going where our Captain's fancy takes us, Master Ned."
"His fancy cannot take us far, then," said the Canadian. "The Persian
Gulf has no outlet: and, if we do go in, it will not be long before we are
out again."
"Very well, then, we will come out again, Master Land; and if, after
the Persian Gulf, the Nautilus would like to visit the Red Sea, the
Straits of Bab-el-mandeb are there to give us entrance."
"I need not tell you, sir," said Ned Land, "that the Red Sea is as much
closed as the Gulf, as the Isthmus of Suez is not yet cut; and, if it was,
a boat as mysterious as ours would not risk itself in a canal cut with
sluices. And again, the Red Sea is not the road to take us back to
Europe."
"But I never said we were going back to Europe."
"What do you suppose, then?"
"I suppose that, after visiting the curious coasts of Arabia and Egypt,
the Nautilus will go down the Indian Ocean again, perhaps cross the
Channel of Mozambique, perhaps off the Mascarenhas, so as to gain the Cape
of Good Hope."
"And once at the Cape of Good Hope?" asked the Canadian, with peculiar
emphasis.
"Well, we shall penetrate into that Atlantic which we do not yet know.
Ah! friend Ned, you are getting tired of this journey under the sea; you
are surfeited with the incessantly varying spectacle of submarine wonders.
For my part, I shall be sorry to see the end of a voyage which it is given
to so few men to make."
For four days, till the 3rd of February, the Nautilus scoured the Sea
of Oman, at various speeds and at various depths. It seemed to go at
random, as if hesitating as to which road it should follow, but we never
passed the Tropic of Cancer.
In quitting this sea we sighted Muscat for an instant, one of the most
important towns of the country of Oman. I admired its strange aspect,
surrounded by black rocks upon which its white houses and forts stood in
relief. I saw the rounded domes of its mosques, the elegant points of its
minarets, its fresh and verdant terraces. But it was only a vision! The
Nautilus soon sank under the waves of that part of the sea.
We passed along the Arabian coast of Mahrah and Hadramaut, for a
distance of six miles, its undulating line of mountains being occasionally
relieved by some ancient ruin. The 5th of February we at last entered the
Gulf of Aden, a perfect funnel introduced into the neck of Bab-el-mandeb,
through which the Indian waters entered the Red Sea.
The 6th of February, the Nautilus floated in sight of Aden, perched
upon a promontory which a narrow isthmus joins to the mainland, a kind of
inaccessible Gibraltar, the fortifications of which were rebuilt by the
English after taking possession in 1839. I caught a glimpse of the octagon
minarets of this town, which was at one time the richest commercial
magazine on the coast.
I certainly thought that Captain Nemo, arrived at this point, would
back out again; but I was mistaken, for he did no such thing, much to my
surprise.
The next day, the 7th of February, we entered the Straits of
Bab-el-mandeb, the name of which, in the Arab tongue, means The Gate of
Tears.
To twenty miles in breadth, it is only thirty-two in length. And for
the Nautilus, starting at full speed, the crossing was scarcely the work
of an hour. But I saw nothing, not even the Island of Perim, with which
the British Government has fortified the position of Aden. There were too
many English or French steamers of the line of Suez to Bombay, Calcutta to
Melbourne, and from Bourbon to the Mauritius, furrowing this narrow
passage, for the Nautilus to venture to show itself. So it remained
prudently below. At last about noon, we were in the waters of the Red Sea.
I would not even seek to understand the caprice which had decided
Captain Nemo upon entering the gulf. But I quite approved of the Nautilus
entering it. Its speed was lessened: sometimes it kept on the surface,
sometimes it dived to avoid a vessel, and thus I was able to observe the
upper and lower parts of this curious sea.
The 8th of February, from the first dawn of day, Mocha came in sight,
now a ruined town, whose walls would fall at a gunshot, yet which shelters
here and there some verdant date-trees; once an important city, containing
six public markets, and twenty-six mosques, and whose walls, defended by
fourteen forts, formed a girdle of two miles in circumference.
The Nautilus then approached the African shore, where the depth of the
sea was greater. There, between two waters clear as crystal, through the
open panels we were allowed to contemplate the beautiful bushes of
brilliant coral and large blocks of rock clothed with a splendid fur of
green variety of sites and landscapes along these sandbanks and algae and
fuci. What an indescribable spectacle, and what variety of sites and
landscapes along these sandbanks and volcanic islands which bound the
Libyan coast! But where these shrubs appeared in all their beauty was on
the eastern coast, which the Nautilus soon gained. It was on the coast of
Tehama, for there not only did this display of zoophytes flourish beneath
the level of the sea, but they also formed picturesque interlacings which
unfolded themselves about sixty feet above the surface, more capricious
but less highly coloured than those whose freshness was kept up by the
vital power of the waters.
What charming hours I passed thus at the window of the saloon! What new
specimens of submarine flora and fauna did I admire under the brightness
of our electric lantern!
The 9th of February the Nautilus floated in the broadest part of the
Red Sea, which is comprised between Souakin, on the west coast, and
Komfidah, on the east coast, with a diameter of ninety miles.
That day at noon, after the bearings were taken, Captain Nemo mounted
the platform, where I happened to be, and I was determined not to let him
go down again without at least pressing him regarding his ulterior
projects. As soon as he saw me he approached and graciously offered me a
cigar.
"Well, sir, does this Red Sea please you? Have you sufficiently
observed the wonders it covers, its fishes, its zoophytes, its parterres
of sponges, and its forests of coral? Did you catch a glimpse of the towns
on its borders?"
"Yes, Captain Nemo," I replied; "and the Nautilus is wonderfully fitted
for such a study. Ah! it is an intelligent boat!"
"Yes, sir, intelligent and invulnerable. It fears neither the terrible
tempests of the Red Sea, nor its currents, nor its sandbanks."
"Certainly," said I, "this sea is quoted as one of the worst, and in
the time of the ancients, if I am not mistaken, its reputation was
detestable."
"Detestable, M. Aronnax. The Greek and Latin historians do not speak
favourably of it, and Strabo says it is very dangerous during the Etesian
winds and in the rainy season. The Arabian Edrisi portrays it under the
name of the Gulf of Colzoum, and relates that vessels perished there in
great numbers on the sandbanks and that no one would risk sailing in the
night. It is, he pretends, a sea subject to fearful hurricanes, strewn
with inhospitable islands, and `which offers nothing good either on its
surface or in its depths.'"
"One may see," I replied, "that these historians never sailed on board
the Nautilus."
"Just so," replied the Captain, smiling; "and in that respect moderns
are not more advanced than the ancients. It required many ages to find out
the mechanical power of steam. Who knows if, in another hundred years, we
may not see a second Nautilus? Progress is slow, M. Aronnax."
"It is true," I answered; "your boat is at least a century before its
time, perhaps an era. What a misfortune that the secret of such an
invention should die with its inventor!"
Captain Nemo did not reply. After some minutes' silence he continued:
"You were speaking of the opinions of ancient historians upon the
dangerous navigation of the Red Sea."
"It is true," said I; "but were not their fears exaggerated?"
"Yes and no, M. Aronnax," replied Captain Nemo, who seemed to know the
Red Sea by heart. "That which is no longer dangerous for a modern vessel,
well rigged, strongly built, and master of its own course, thanks to
obedient steam, offered all sorts of perils to the ships of the ancients.
Picture to yourself those first navigators venturing in ships made of
planks sewn with the cords of the palmtree, saturated with the grease of
the seadog, and covered with powdered resin! They had not even instruments
wherewith to take their bearings, and they went by guess amongst currents
of which they scarcely knew anything. Under such conditions shipwrecks
were, and must have been, numerous. But in our time, steamers running
between Suez and the South Seas have nothing more to fear from the fury of
this gulf, in spite of contrary trade-winds. The captain and passengers do
not prepare for their departure by offering propitiatory sacrifices; and,
on their return, they no longer go ornamented with wreaths and gilt
fillets to thank the gods in the neighbouring temple."
"I agree with you," said I; "and steam seems to have killed all
gratitude in the hearts of sailors. But, Captain, since you seem to have
especially studied this sea, can you tell me the origin of its name?"
"There exist several explanations on the subject, M. Aronnax. Would you
like to know the opinion of a chronicler of the fourteenth century?"
"Willingly."
"This fanciful writer pretends that its name was given to it after the
passage of the Israelites, when Pharaoh perished in the waves which closed
at the voice of Moses."
"A poet's explanation, Captain Nemo," I replied; "but I cannot content
myself with that. I ask you for your personal opinion."
"Here it is, M. Aronnax. According to my idea, we must see in this
appellation of the Red Sea a translation of the Hebrew word `Edom'; and if
the ancients gave it that name, it was on account of the particular colour
of its waters."
"But up to this time I have seen nothing but transparent waves and
without any particular colour."
"Very likely; but as we advance to the bottom of the gulf, you will see
this singular appearance. I remember seeing the Bay of Tor entirely red,
like a sea of blood."
"And you attribute this colour to the presence of a microscopic
seaweed?"
"Yes."
"So, Captain Nemo, it is not the first time you have overrun the Red
Sea on board the Nautilus?"
"No, sir."
"As you spoke a while ago of the passage of the Israelites and of the
catastrophe to the Egyptians, I will ask whether you have met with the
traces under the water of this great historical fact?"
"No, sir; and for a good reason."
"What is it?"
"It is that the spot where Moses and his people passed is now so
blocked up with sand that the camels can barely bathe their legs there.
You can well understand that there would not be water enough for my
Nautilus."
"And the spot?" I asked.
"The spot is situated a little above the Isthmus of Suez, in the arm
which formerly made a deep estuary, when the Red Sea extended to the Salt
Lakes. Now, whether this passage were miraculous or not, the Israelites,
nevertheless, crossed there to reach the Promised Land, and Pharaoh's army
perished precisely on that spot; and I think that excavations made in the
middle of the sand would bring to light a large number of arms and
instruments of Egyptian origin."
"That is evident," I replied; "and for the sake of archaeologists let
us hope that these excavations will be made sooner or later, when new
towns are established on the isthmus, after the construction of the Suez
Canal; a canal, however, very useless to a vessel like the Nautilus."
"Very likely; but useful to the whole world," said Captain Nemo. "The
ancients well understood the utility of a communication between the Red
Sea and the Mediterranean for their commercial affairs: but they did not
think of digging a canal direct, and took the Nile as an intermediate.
Very probably the canal which united the Nile to the Red Sea was begun by
Sesostris, if we may believe tradition. One thing is certain, that in the
year 615 before Jesus Christ, Necos undertook the works of an alimentary
canal to the waters of the Nile across the plain of Egypt, looking towards
Arabia. It took four days to go up this canal, and it was so wide that two
triremes could go abreast. It was carried on by Darius, the son of
Hystaspes, and probably finished by Ptolemy II. Strabo saw it navigated:
but its decline from the point of departure, near Bubastes, to the Red Sea
was so slight that it was only navigable for a few months in the year.
This canal answered all commercial purposes to the age of Antonius, when
it was abandoned and blocked up with sand. Restored by order of the Caliph
Omar, it was definitely destroyed in 761 or 762 by Caliph Al-Mansor, who
wished to prevent the arrival of provisions to Mohammed-ben-Abdallah, who
had revolted against him. During the expedition into Egypt, your General
Bonaparte discovered traces of the works in the Desert of Suez; and,
surprised by the tide, he nearly perished before regaining Hadjaroth, at
the very place where Moses had encamped three thousand years before him."
"Well, Captain, what the ancients dared not undertake, this junction
between the two seas, which will shorten the road from Cadiz to India, M.
Lesseps has succeeded in doing; and before long he will have changed
Africa into an immense island."
"Yes, M. Aronnax; you have the right to be proud of your countryman.
Such a man brings more honour to a nation than great captains. He began,
like so many others, with disgust and rebuffs; but he has triumphed, for
he has the genius of will. And it is sad to think that a work like that,
which ought to have been an international work and which would have
sufficed to make a reign illustrious, should have succeeded by the energy
of one man. All honour to M. Lesseps!"
"Yes! honour to the great citizen," I replied, surprised by the manner
in which Captain Nemo had just spoken.
"Unfortunately," he continued, "I cannot take you through the Suez
Canal; but you will be able to see the long jetty of Port Said after
to-morrow, when we shall be in the Mediterranean."
"The Mediterranean!" I exclaimed.
"Yes, sir; does that astonish you?"
"What astonishes me is to think that we shall be there the day after
to-morrow."
"Indeed?"
"Yes, Captain, although by this time I ought to have accustomed myself
to be surprised at nothing since I have been on board your boat."
"But the cause of this surprise?"
"Well! it is the fearful speed you will have to put on the Nautilus, if
the day after to-morrow she is to be in the Mediterranean, having made the
round of Africa, and doubled the Cape of Good Hope!"
"Who told you that she would make the round of Africa and double the
Cape of Good Hope, sir?"
"Well, unless the Nautilus sails on dry land, and passes above the
isthmus-"
"Or beneath it, M. Aronnax."
"Beneath it?"
"Certainly," replied Captain Nemo quietly. "A long time ago Nature made
under this tongue of land what man has this day made on its surface."
"What! such a passage exists?"
"Yes; a subterranean passage, which I have named the Arabian Tunnel. It
takes us beneath Suez and opens into the Gulf of Pelusium."
"But this isthmus is composed of nothing but quick sands?"
"To a certain depth. But at fifty-five yards only there is a solid
layer of rock."
"Did you discover this passage by chance?" I asked more and more
surprised.
"Chance and reasoning, sir; and by reasoning even more than by chance.
Not only does this passage exist, but I have profited by it several times.
Without that I should not have ventured this day into the impassable Red
Sea. I noticed that in the Red Sea and in the Mediterranean there existed
a certain number of fishes of a kind perfectly identical. Certain of the
fact, I asked myself was it possible that there was no communication
between the two seas? If there was, the subterranean current must
necessarily run from the Red Sea to the Mediterranean, from the sole cause
of difference of level. I caught a large number of fishes in the
neighbourhood of Suez. I passed a copper ring through their tails, and
threw them back into the sea. Some months later, on the coast of Syria, I
caught some of my fish ornamented with the ring. Thus the communication
between the two was proved. I then sought for it with my Nautilus; I
discovered it, ventured into it, and before long, sir, you too will have
passed through my Arabian tunnel!"
Chapter V. THE ARABIAN TUNNEL
That same evening, in 21O 30' N. lat., the Nautilus floated on the
surface of the sea, approaching the Arabian coast. I saw Djeddah, the most
important counting-house of Egypt, Syria, Turkey, and India. I
distinguished clearly enough its buildings, the vessels anchored at the
quays, and those whose draught of water obliged them to anchor in the
roads. The sun, rather low on the horizon, struck full on the houses of
the town, bringing out their whiteness. Outside, some wooden cabins, and
some made of reeds, showed the quarter inhabited by the Bedouins. Soon
Djeddah was shut out from view by the shadows of night, and the Nautilus
found herself under water slightly phosphorescent.
The next day, the 10th of February, we sighted several ships running to
windward. The Nautilus returned to its submarine navigation; but at noon,
when her bearings were taken, the sea being deserted, she rose again to
her waterline.
Accompanied by Ned and Conseil, I seated myself on the platform. The
coast on the eastern side looked like a mass faintly printed upon a damp
fog.
We were leaning on the sides of the pinnace, talking of one thing and
another, when Ned Land, stretching out his hand towards a spot on the sea,
said:
"Do you see anything there, sir?"
"No, Ned," I replied; "but I have not your eyes, you know."
"Look well," said Ned, "there, on the starboard beam, about the height
of the lantern! Do you not see a mass which seems to move?"
"Certainly," said I, after close attention; "I see something like a
long black body on the top of the water."
And certainly before long the black object was not more than a mile
from us. It looked like a great sandbank deposited in the open sea. It was
a gigantic dugong!
Ned Land looked eagerly. His eyes shone with covetousness at the sight
of the animal. His hand seemed ready to harpoon it. One would have thought
he was awaiting the moment to throw himself into the sea and attack it in
its element.
At this instant Captain Nemo appeared on the platform. He saw the
dugong, understood the Canadian's attitude, and, addressing him, said:
"If you held a harpoon just now, Master Land, would it not burn your
hand?"
"Just so, sir."
"And you would not be sorry to go back, for one day, to your trade of a
fisherman and to add this cetacean to the list of those you have already
killed?"
"I should not, sir."
"Well, you can try."
"Thank you, sir," said Ned Land, his eyes flaming.
"Only," continued the Captain, "I advise you for your own sake not to
miss the creature."
"Is the dugong dangerous to attack?" I asked, in spite of the
Canadian's shrug of the shoulders.
"Yes," replied the Captain; "sometimes the animal turns upon its
assailants and overturns their boat. But for Master Land this danger is
not to be feared. His eye is prompt, his arm sure."
At this moment seven men of the crew, mute and immovable as ever,
mounted the platform. One carried a harpoon and a line similar to those
employed in catching whales. The pinnace was lifted from the bridge,
pulled from its socket, and let down into the sea. Six oarsmen took their
seats, and the coxswain went to the tiller. Ned, Conseil, and I went to
the back of the boat.
"You are not coming, Captain?" I asked.
"No, sir; but I wish you good sport."
The boat put off, and, lifted by the six rowers, drew rapidly towards
the dugong, which floated about two miles from the Nautilus.
Arrived some cables-length from the cetacean, the speed slackened, and
the oars dipped noiselessly into the quiet waters. Ned Land, harpoon in
hand, stood in the fore part of the boat. The harpoon used for striking
the whale is generally attached to a very long cord which runs out rapidly
as the wounded creature draws it after him. But here the cord was not more
than ten fathoms long, and the extremity was attached to a small barrel
which, by floating, was to show the course the dugong took under the
water.
I stood and carefully watched the Canadian's adversary. This dugong,
which also bears the name of the halicore, closely resembles the manatee;
its oblong body terminated in a lengthened tail, and its lateral fins in
perfect fingers. Its difference from the manatee consisted in its upper
jaw, which was armed with two long and pointed teeth which formed on each
side diverging tusks.
This dugong which Ned Land was preparing to attack was of colossal
dimensions; it was more than seven yards long. It did not move, and seemed
to be sleeping on the waves, which circumstance made it easier to capture.
The boat approached within six yards of the animal. The oars rested on
the rowlocks. I half rose. Ned Land, his body thrown a little back,
brandished the harpoon in his experienced hand.
Suddenly a hissing noise was heard, and the dugong disappeared. The
harpoon, although thrown with great force; had apparently only struck the
water.
"Curse it!" exclaimed the Canadian furiously; "I have missed it!"
"No," said I; "the creature is wounded-look at the blood; but your
weapon has not stuck in his body."
"My harpoon! my harpoon!" cried Ned Land.
The sailors rowed on, and the coxswain made for the floating barrel.
The harpoon regained, we followed in pursuit of the animal.
The latter came now and then to the surface to breathe. Its wound had
not weakened it, for it shot onwards with great rapidity.
The boat, rowed by strong arms, flew on its track. Several times it
approached within some few yards, and the Canadian was ready to strike,
but the dugong made off with a sudden plunge, and it was impossible to
reach it.
Imagine the passion which excited impatient Ned Land! He hurled at the
unfortunate creature the most energetic expletives in the English tongue.
For my part, I was only vexed to see the dugong escape all our attacks.
We pursued it without relaxation for an hour, and I began to think it
would prove difficult to capture, when the animal, possessed with the
perverse idea of vengeance of which he had cause to repent, turned upon
the pinnace and assailed us in its turn.
This manoeuvre did not escape the Canadian.
"Look out!" he cried.
The coxswain said some words in his outlandish tongue, doubtless
warning the men to keep on their guard.
The dugong came within twenty feet of the boat, stopped, sniffed the
air briskly with its large nostrils (not pierced at the extremity, but in
the upper part of its muzzle). Then, taking a spring, he threw himself
upon us.
The pinnace could not avoid the shock, and half upset, shipped at least
two tons of water, which had to be emptied; but, thanks to the coxswain,
we caught it sideways, not full front, so we were not quite overturned.
While Ned Land, clinging to the bows, belaboured the gigantic animal with
blows from his harpoon, the creature's teeth were buried in the gunwale,
and it lifted the whole thing out of the water, as a lion does a roebuck.
We were upset over one another, and I know not how the adventure would
have ended, if the Canadian, still enraged with the beast, had not struck
it to the heart.
I heard its teeth grind on the iron plate, and the dugong disappeared,
carrying the harpoon with him. But the barrel soon returned to the
surface, and shortly after the body of the animal, turned on its back. The
boat came up with it, took it in tow, and made straight for the Nautilus.
It required tackle of enormous strength to hoist the dugong on to the
platform. It weighed 10,000 lb.
The next day, 11th February, the larder of the Nautilus was enriched by
some more delicate game. A flight of sea-swallows rested on the Nautilus.
It was a species of the Sterna nilotica, peculiar to Egypt; its beak is
black, head grey and pointed, the eye surrounded by white spots, the back,
wings, and tail of a greyish colour, the belly and throat white, and claws
red. They also took some dozen of Nile ducks, a wild bird of high flavour,
its throat and upper part of the head white with black spots.
About five o'clock in the evening we sighted to the north the Cape of
Ras-Mohammed. This cape forms the extremity of Arabia Petraea, comprised
between the Gulf of Suez and the Gulf of Acabah.
The Nautilus penetrated into the Straits of Jubal, which leads to the
Gulf of Suez. I distinctly saw a high mountain, towering between the two
gulfs of Ras-Mohammed. It was Mount Horeb, that Sinai at the top of which
Moses saw God face to face.
At six o'clock the Nautilus, sometimes floating, sometimes immersed,
passed some distance from Tor, situated at the end of the bay, the waters
of which seemed tinted with red, an observation already made by Captain
Nemo. Then night fell in the midst of a heavy silence, sometimes broken by
the cries of the pelican and other night-birds, and the noise of the waves
breaking upon the shore, chafing against the rocks, or the panting of some
far-off steamer beating the waters of the Gulf with its noisy paddles.
From eight to nine o'clock the Nautilus remained some fathoms under the
water. According to my calculation we must have been very near Suez.
Through the panel of the saloon I saw the bottom of the rocks brilliantly
lit up by our electric lamp. We seemed to be leaving the Straits behind us
more and more.
At a quarter-past nine, the vessel having returned to the surface, I
mounted the platform. Most impatient to pass through Captain Nemo's
tunnel, I could not stay in one place, so came to breathe the fresh night
air.
Soon in the shadow I saw a pale light, half discoloured by the fog,
shining about a mile from us.
"A floating lighthouse!" said someone near me.
I turned, and saw the Captain.
"It is the floating light of Suez," he continued. "It will not be long
before we gain the entrance of the tunnel."
"The entrance cannot be easy?"
"No, sir; for that reason I am accustomed to go into the steersman's
cage and myself direct our course. And now, if you will go down, M.
Aronnax, the Nautilus is going under the waves, and will not return to the
surface until we have passed through the Arabian Tunnel."
Captain Nemo led me towards the central staircase; half way down he
opened a door, traversed the upper deck, and landed in the pilot's cage,
which it may be remembered rose at the extremity of the platform. It was a
cabin measuring six feet square, very much like that occupied by the pilot
on the steamboats of the Mississippi or Hudson. In the midst worked a
wheel, placed vertically, and caught to the tiller-rope, which ran to the
back of the Nautilus. Four light-ports with lenticular glasses, let in a
groove in the partition of the cabin, allowed the man at the wheel to see
in all directions.
This cabin was dark; but soon my eyes accustomed themselves to the
obscurity, and I perceived the pilot, a strong man, with his hands resting
on the spokes of the wheel. Outside, the sea appeared vividly lit up by
the lantern, which shed its rays from the back of the cabin to the other
extremity of the platform.
"Now," said Captain Nemo, "let us try to make our passage."
Electric wires connected the pilot's cage with the machinery room, and
from there the Captain could communicate simultaneously to his Nautilus
the direction and the speed. He pressed a metal knob, and at once the
speed of the screw diminished.
I looked in silence at the high straight wall we were running by at
this moment, the immovable base of a massive sandy coast. We followed it
thus for an hour only some few yards off.
Captain Nemo did not take his eye from the knob, suspended by its two
concentric circles in the cabin. At a simple gesture, the pilot modified
the course of the Nautilus every instant.
I had placed myself at the port-scuttle, and saw some magnificent
substructures of coral, zoophytes, seaweed, and fucus, agitating their
enormous claws, which stretched out from the fissures of the rock.
At a quarter-past ten, the Captain himself took the helm. A large
gallery, black and deep, opened before us. The Nautilus went boldly into
it. A strange roaring was heard round its sides. It was the waters of the
Red Sea, which the incline of the tunnel precipitated violently towards
the Mediterranean. The Nautilus went with the torrent, rapid as an arrow,
in spite of the efforts of the machinery, which, in order to offer more
effective resistance, beat the waves with reversed screw.
On the walls of the narrow passage I could see nothing but brilliant
rays, straight lines, furrows of fire, traced by the great speed, under
the brilliant electric light. My heart beat fast.
At thirty-five minutes past ten, Captain Nemo quitted the helm, and,
turning to me, said:
"The Mediterranean!"
In less than twenty minutes, the Nautilus, carried along by the
torrent, had passed through the Isthmus of Suez.
Chapter VI. THE GRECIAN ARCHIPELAGO
The next day, the 12th of February, at the dawn of day, the Nautilus
rose to the surface. I hastened on to the platform. Three miles to the
south the dim outline of Pelusium was to be seen. A torrent had carried us
from one sea to another. About seven o'clock Ned and Conseil joined me.
"Well, Sir Naturalist," said the Canadian, in a slightly jovial tone,
"and the Mediterranean?"
"We are floating on its surface, friend Ned."
"What!" said Conseil, "this very night."
"Yes, this very night; in a few minutes we have passed this impassable
isthmus."
"I do not believe it," replied the Canadian.
"Then you are wrong, Master Land," I continued; "this low coast which
rounds off to the south is the Egyptian coast. And you who have such good
eyes, Ned, you can see the jetty of Port Said stretching into the sea."
The Canadian looked attentively.
"Certainly you are right, sir, and your Captain is a first-rate man. We
are in the Mediterranean. Good! Now, if you please, let us talk of our own
little affair, but so that no one hears us."
I saw what the Canadian wanted, and, in any case, I thought it better
to let him talk, as he wished it; so we all three went and sat down near
the lantern, where we were less exposed to the spray of the blades.
"Now, Ned, we listen; what have you to tell us?"
"What I have to tell you is very simple. We are in Europe; and before
Captain Nemo's caprices drag us once more to the bottom of the Polar Seas,
or lead us into Oceania, I ask to leave the Nautilus."
I wished in no way to shackle the liberty of my companions, but I
certainly felt no desire to leave Captain Nemo.
Thanks to him, and thanks to his apparatus, I was each day nearer the
completion of my submarine studies; and I was rewriting my book of
submarine depths in its very element. Should I ever again have such an
opportunity of observing the wonders of the ocean? No, certainly not! And
I could not bring myself to the idea of abandoning the Nautilus before the
cycle of investigation was accomplished.
"Friend Ned, answer me frankly, are you tired of being on board? Are
you sorry that destiny has thrown us into Captain Nemo's hands?"
The Canadian remained some moments without answering. Then, crossing
his arms, he said:
"Frankly, I do not regret this journey under the seas. I shall be glad
to have made it; but, now that it is made, let us have done with it. That
is my idea."
"It will come to an end, Ned."
"Where and when?"
"Where I do not know-when I cannot say; or, rather, I suppose it will
end when these seas have nothing more to teach us."
"Then what do you hope for?" demanded the Canadian.
"That circumstances may occur as well six months hence as now by which
we may and ought to profit."
"Oh!" said Ned Land, "and where shall we be in six months, if you
please, Sir Naturalist?"
"Perhaps in China; you know the Nautilus is a rapid traveller. It goes
through water as swallows through the air, or as an express on the land.
It does not fear frequented seas; who can say that it may not beat the
coasts of France, England, or America, on which flight may be attempted as
advantageously as here."
"M. Aronnax," replied the Canadian, "your arguments are rotten at the
foundation. You speak in the future, `We shall be there! we shall be
here!' I speak in the present, `We are here, and we must profit by it.'"
Ned Land's logic pressed me hard, and I felt myself beaten on that
ground. I knew not what argument would now tell in my favour.
"Sir," continued Ned, "let us suppose an impossibility: if Captain Nemo
should this day offer you your liberty; would you accept it?"
"I do not know," I answered.
"And if," he added, "the offer made you this day was never to be
renewed, would you accept it?"
"Friend Ned, this is my answer. Your reasoning is against me. We must
not rely on Captain Nemo's good-will. Common prudence forbids him to set
us at liberty. On the other side, prudence bids us profit by the first
opportunity to leave the Nautilus."
"Well, M. Aronnax, that is wisely said."
"Only one observation-just one. The occasion must be serious, and our
first attempt must succeed; if it fails, we shall never find another, and
Captain Nemo will never forgive us."
"All that is true," replied the Canadian. "But your observation applies
equally to all attempts at flight, whether in two years' time, or in two
days'. But the question is still this: If a favourable opportunity
presents itself, it must be seized."
"Agreed! And now, Ned, will you tell me what you mean by a favourable
opportunity?"
"It will be that which, on a dark night, will bring the Nautilus a
short distance from some European coast."
"And you will try and save yourself by swimming?"
"Yes, if we were near enough to the bank, and if the vessel was
floating at the time. Not if the bank was far away, and the boat was under
the water."
"And in that case?"
"In that case, I should seek to make myself master of the pinnace. I
know how it is worked. We must get inside, and the bolts once drawn, we
shall come to the surface of the water, without even the pilot, who is in
the bows, perceiving our flight."
"Well, Ned, watch for the opportunity; but do not forget that a hitch
will ruin us."
"I will not forget, sir."
"And now, Ned, would you like to know what I think of your project?"
"Certainly, M. Aronnax."
"Well, I think-I do not say I hope-I think that this favourable
opportunity will never present itself."
"Why not?"
"Because Captain Nemo cannot hide from himself that we have not given
up all hope of regaining our liberty, and he will be on his guard, above
all, in the seas and in the sight of European coasts."
"We shall see," replied Ned Land, shaking his head determinedly.
"And now, Ned Land," I added, "let us stop here. Not another word on
the subject. The day that you are ready, come and let us know, and we will
follow you. I rely entirely upon you."
Thus ended a conversation which, at no very distant time, led to such
grave results. I must say here that facts seemed to confirm my foresight,
to the Canadian's great despair. Did Captain Nemo distrust us in these
frequented seas? or did he only wish to hide himself from the numerous
vessels, of all nations, which ploughed the Mediterranean? I could not
tell; but we were oftener between waters and far from the coast. Or, if
the Nautilus did emerge, nothing was to be seen but the pilot's cage; and
sometimes it went to great depths, for, between the Grecian Archipelago
and Asia Minor we could not touch the bottom by more than a thousand
fathoms.
Thus I only knew we were near the Island of Carpathos, one of the
Sporades, by Captain Nemo reciting these lines from Virgil:
"Est Carpathio Neptuni gurgite vates, Caeruleus Proteus,"
as he pointed to a spot on the planisphere.
It was indeed the ancient abode of Proteus, the old shepherd of
Neptune's flocks, now the Island of Scarpanto, situated between Rhodes and
Crete. I saw nothing but the granite base through the glass panels of the
saloon.
The next day, the 14th of February, I resolved to employ some hours in
studying the fishes of the Archipelago; but for some reason or other the
panels remained hermetically sealed. Upon taking the course of the
Nautilus, I found that we were going towards Candia, the ancient Isle of
Crete. At the time I embarked on the Abraham Lincoln, the whole of this
island had risen in insurrection against the despotism of the Turks. But
how the insurgents had fared since that time I was absolutely ignorant,
and it was not Captain Nemo, deprived of all land communications, who
could tell me.
I made no allusion to this event when that night I found myself alone
with him in the saloon. Besides, he seemed to be taciturn and preoccupied.
Then, contrary to his custom, he ordered both panels to be opened, and,
going from one to the other, observed the mass of waters attentively. To
what end I could not guess; so, on my side, I employed my time in studying
the fish passing before my eyes.
In the midst of the waters a man appeared, a diver, carrying at his
belt a leathern purse. It was not a body abandoned to the waves; it was a
living man, swimming with a strong hand, disappearing occasionally to take
breath at the surface.
I turned towards Captain Nemo, and in an agitated voice exclaimed:
"A man shipwrecked! He must be saved at any price!"
The Captain did not answer me, but came and leaned against the panel.
The man had approached, and, with his face flattened against the glass,
was looking at us.
To my great amazement, Captain Nemo signed to him. The diver answered
with his hand, mounted immediately to the surface of the water, and did
not appear again.
"Do not be uncomfortable," said Captain Nemo. "It is Nicholas of Cape
Matapan, surnamed Pesca. He is well known in all the Cyclades. A bold
diver! water is his element, and he lives more in it than on land, going
continually from one island to another, even as far as Crete."
"You know him, Captain?"
"Why not, M. Aronnax?"
Saying which, Captain Nemo went towards a piece of furniture standing
near the left panel of the saloon. Near this piece of furniture, I saw a
chest bound with iron, on the cover of which was a copper plate, bearing
the cypher of the Nautilus with its device.
At that moment, the Captain, without noticing my presence, opened the
piece of furniture, a sort of strong box, which held a great many ingots.
They were ingots of gold. From whence came this precious metal, which
represented an enormous sum? Where did the Captain gather this gold from?
and what was he going to do with it?
I did not say one word. I looked. Captain Nemo took the ingots one by
one, and arranged them methodically in the chest, which he filled
entirely. I estimated the contents at more than 4,000 lb. weight of gold,
that is to say, nearly L200,000.
The chest was securely fastened, and the Captain wrote an address on
the lid, in characters which must have belonged to Modern Greece.
This done, Captain Nemo pressed a knob, the wire of which communicated
with the quarters of the crew. Four men appeared, and, not without some
trouble, pushed the chest out of the saloon. Then I heard them hoisting it
up the iron staircase by means of pulleys.
At that moment, Captain Nemo turned to me.
"And you were saying, sir?" said he.
"I was saying nothing, Captain."
"Then, sir, if you will allow me, I will wish you good night."
Whereupon he turned and left the saloon.
I returned to my room much troubled, as one may believe. I vainly tried
to sleep-I sought the connecting link between the apparition of the diver
and the chest filled with gold. Soon, I felt by certain movements of
pitching and tossing that the Nautilus was leaving the depths and
returning to the surface.
Then I heard steps upon the platform; and I knew they were unfastening
the pinnace and launching it upon the waves. For one instant it struck the
side of the Nautilus, then all noise ceased.
Two hours after, the same noise, the same going and coming was renewed;
the boat was hoisted on board, replaced in its socket, and the Nautilus
again plunged under the waves.
So these millions had been transported to their address. To what point
of the continent? Who was Captain Nemo's correspondent?
The next day I related to Conseil and the Canadian the events of the
night, which had excited my curiosity to the highest degree. My companions
were not less surprised than myself.
"But where does he take his millions to?" asked Ned Land.
To that there was no possible answer. I returned to the saloon after
having breakfast and set to work. Till five o'clock in the evening I
employed myself in arranging my notes. At that moment-(ought I to
attribute it to some peculiar idiosyncrasy)- I felt so great a heat that I
was obliged to take off my coat. It was strange, for we were under low
latitudes; and even then the Nautilus, submerged as it was, ought to
experience no change of temperature. I looked at the manometer; it showed
a depth of sixty feet, to which atmospheric heat could never attain.
I continued my work, but the temperature rose to such a pitch as to be
intolerable.
"Could there be fire on board?" I asked myself.
I was leaving the saloon, when Captain Nemo entered; he approached the
thermometer, consulted it, and, turning to me, said:
"Forty-two degrees."
"I have noticed it, Captain," I replied; "and if it gets much hotter we
cannot bear it."
"Oh, sir, it will not get better if we do not wish it."
"You can reduce it as you please, then?"
"No; but I can go farther from the stove which produces it."
"It is outward, then!"
"Certainly; we are floating in a current of boiling water."
"Is it possible!" I exclaimed.
"Look."
The panels opened, and I saw the sea entirely white all round. A
sulphurous smoke was curling amid the waves, which boiled like water in a
copper. I placed my hand on one of the panes of glass, but the heat was so
great that I quickly took it off again.
"Where are we?" I asked.
"Near the Island of Santorin, sir," replied the Captain. "I wished to
give you a sight of the curious spectacle of a submarine eruption."
"I thought," said I, "that the formation of these new islands was
ended."
"Nothing is ever ended in the volcanic parts of the sea," replied
Captain Nemo; "and the globe is always being worked by subterranean fires.
Already, in the nineteenth year of our era, according to Cassiodorus and
Pliny, a new island, Theia (the divine), appeared in the very place where
these islets have recently been formed. Then they sank under the waves, to
rise again in the year 69, when they again subsided. Since that time to
our days the Plutonian work has been suspended. But on the 3rd of
February, 1866, a new island, which they named George Island, emerged from
the midst of the sulphurous vapour near Nea Kamenni, and settled again the
6th of the same month. Seven days after, the 13th of February, the Island
of Aphroessa appeared, leaving between Nea Kamenni and itself a canal ten
yards broad. I was in these seas when the phenomenon occurred, and I was
able therefore to observe all the different phases. The Island of
Aphroessa, of round form, measured 300 feet in diameter, and 30 feet in
height. It was composed of black and vitreous lava, mixed with fragments
of felspar. And lastly, on the 10th of March, a smaller island, called
Reka, showed itself near Nea Kamenni, and since then these three have
joined together, forming but one and the same island."
"And the canal in which we are at this moment?" I asked.
"Here it is," replied Captain Nemo, showing me a map of the
Archipelago. "You see, I have marked the new islands."
I returned to the glass. The Nautilus was no longer moving, the heat
was becoming unbearable. The sea, which till now had been white, was red,
owing to the presence of salts of iron. In spite of the ship's being
hermetically sealed, an insupportable smell of sulphur filled the saloon,
and the brilliancy of the electricity was entirely extinguished by bright
scarlet flames. I was in a bath, I was choking, I was broiled.
"We can remain no longer in this boiling water," said I to the Captain.
"It would not be prudent," replied the impassive Captain Nemo.
An order was given; the Nautilus tacked about and left the furnace it
could not brave with impunity. A quarter of an hour after we were
breathing fresh air on the surface. The thought then struck me that, if
Ned Land had chosen this part of the sea for our flight, we should never
have come alive out of this sea of fire.
The next day, the 16th of February, we left the basin which, between
Rhodes and Alexandria, is reckoned about 1,500 fathoms in depth, and the
Nautilus, passing some distance from Cerigo, quitted the Grecian
Archipelago after having doubled Cape Matapan.
Chapter VII. THE MEDITERRANEAN IN FORTY-EIGHT HOURS
The Mediterranean, the blue sea par excellence, "the great sea" of the
Hebrews, "the sea" of the Greeks, the "mare nostrum" of the Romans,
bordered by orange-trees, aloes, cacti, and sea-pines; embalmed with the
perfume of the myrtle, surrounded by rude mountains, saturated with pure
and transparent air, but incessantly worked by underground fires; a
perfect battlefield in which Neptune and Pluto still dispute the empire of
the world!
It is upon these banks, and on these waters, says Michelet, that man is
renewed in one of the most powerful climates of the globe. But, beautiful
as it was, I could only take a rapid glance at the basin whose superficial
area is two million of square yards. Even Captain Nemo's knowledge was
lost to me, for this puzzling person did not appear once during our
passage at full speed. I estimated the course which the Nautilus took
under the waves of the sea at about six hundred leagues, and it was
accomplished in forty-eight hours. Starting on the morning of the 16th of
February from the shores of Greece, we had crossed the Straits of
Gibraltar by sunrise on the 18th.
It was plain to me that this Mediterranean, enclosed in the midst of
those countries which he wished to avoid, was distasteful to Captain Nemo.
Those waves and those breezes brought back too many remembrances, if not
too many regrets. Here he had no longer that independence and that liberty
of gait which he had when in the open seas, and his Nautilus felt itself
cramped between the close shores of Africa and Europe.
Our speed was now twenty-five miles an hour. It may be well understood
that Ned Land, to his great disgust, was obliged to renounce his intended
flight. He could not launch the pinnace, going at the rate of twelve or
thirteen yards every second. To quit the Nautilus under such conditions
would be as bad as jumping from a train going at full speed-an imprudent
thing, to say the least of it. Besides, our vessel only mounted to the
surface of the waves at night to renew its stock of air; it was steered
entirely by the compass and the log.
I saw no more of the interior of this Mediterranean than a traveller by
express train perceives of the landscape which flies before his eyes; that
is to say, the distant horizon, and not the nearer objects which pass like
a flash of lightning.
We were then passing between Sicily and the coast of Tunis. In the
narrow space between Cape Bon and the Straits of Messina the bottom of the
sea rose almost suddenly. There was a perfect bank, on which there was not
more than nine fathoms of water, whilst on either side the depth was
ninety fathoms.
The Nautilus had to manoeuvre very carefully so as not to strike
against this submarine barrier.
I showed Conseil, on the map of the Mediterranean, the spot occupied by
this reef.
"But if you please, sir," observed Conseil, "it is like a real isthmus
joining Europe to Africa."
"Yes, my boy, it forms a perfect bar to the Straits of Lybia, and the
soundings of Smith have proved that in former times the continents between
Cape Boco and Cape Furina were joined."
"I can well believe it," said Conseil.
"I will add," I continued, "that a similar barrier exists between
Gibraltar and Ceuta, which in geological times formed the entire
Mediterranean."
"What if some volcanic burst should one day raise these two barriers
above the waves?"
"It is not probable, Conseil."
"Well, but allow me to finish, please, sir; if this phenomenon should
take place, it will be troublesome for M. Lesseps, who has taken so much
pains to pierce the isthmus."
"I agree with you; but I repeat, Conseil, this phenomenon will never
happen. The violence of subterranean force is ever diminishing. Volcanoes,
so plentiful in the first days of the world, are being extinguished by
degrees; the internal heat is weakened, the temperature of the lower
strata of the globe is lowered by a perceptible quantity every century to
the detriment of our globe, for its heat is its life."
"But the sun?"
"The sun is not sufficient, Conseil. Can it give heat to a dead body?"
"Not that I know of."
"Well, my friend, this earth will one day be that cold corpse; it will
become uninhabitable and uninhabited like the moon, which has long since
lost all its vital heat."
"In how many centuries?"
"In some hundreds of thousands of years, my boy."
"Then," said Conseil, "we shall have time to finish our journey- that
is, if Ned Land does not interfere with it."
And Conseil, reassured, returned to the study of the bank, which the
Nautilus was skirting at a moderate speed.
During the night of the 16th and 17th February we had entered the
second Mediterranean basin, the greatest depth of which was 1,450 fathoms.
The Nautilus, by the action of its crew, slid down the inclined planes and
buried itself in the lowest depths of the sea.
On the 18th of February, about three o'clock in the morning, we were at
the entrance of the Straits of Gibraltar. There once existed two currents:
an upper one, long since recognised, which conveys the waters of the ocean
into the basin of the Mediterranean; and a lower counter-current, which
reasoning has now shown to exist. Indeed, the volume of water in the
Mediterranean, incessantly added to by the waves of the Atlantic and by
rivers falling into it, would each year raise the level of this sea, for
its evaporation is not sufficient to restore the equilibrium. As it is not
so, we must necessarily admit the existence of an under-current, which
empties into the basin of the Atlantic through the Straits of Gibraltar
the surplus waters of the Mediterranean. A fact indeed; and it was this
counter-current by which the Nautilus profited. It advanced rapidly by the
narrow pass. For one instant I caught a glimpse of the beautiful ruins of
the temple of Hercules, buried in the ground, according to Pliny, and with
the low island which supports it; and a few minutes later we were floating
on the Atlantic.
The Atlantic! a vast sheet of water whose superficial area covers
twenty-five millions of square miles, the length of which is nine thousand
miles, with a mean breadth of two thousand seven hundred- an ocean whose
parallel winding shores embrace an immense circumference, watered by the
largest rivers of the world, the St. Lawrence, the Mississippi, the
Amazon, the Plata, the Orinoco, the Niger, the Senegal, the Elbe, the
Loire, and the Rhine, which carry water from the most civilised, as well
as from the most savage, countries! Magnificent field of water,
incessantly ploughed by vessels of every nation, sheltered by the flags of
every nation, and which terminates in those two terrible points so dreaded
by mariners, Cape Horn and the Cape of Tempests.
The Nautilus was piercing the water with its sharp spur, after having
accomplished nearly ten thousand leagues in three months and a half, a
distance greater than the great circle of the earth. Where were we going
now, and what was reserved for the future? The Nautilus, leaving the
Straits of Gibraltar, had gone far out. It returned to the surface of the
waves, and our daily walks on the platform were restored to us.
I mounted at once, accompanied by Ned Land and Conseil. At a distance
of about twelve miles, Cape St. Vincent was dimly to be seen, forming the
south-western point of the Spanish peninsula. A strong southerly gale was
blowing. The sea was swollen and billowy; it made the Nautilus rock
violently. It was almost impossible to keep one's foot on the platform,
which the heavy rolls of the sea beat over every instant. So we descended
after inhaling some mouthfuls of fresh air.
I returned to my room, Conseil to his cabin; but the Canadian, with a
preoccupied air, followed me. Our rapid passage across the Mediterranean
had not allowed him to put his project into execution, and he could not
help showing his disappointment. When the door of my room was shut, he sat
down and looked at me silently.
"Friend Ned," said I, "I understand you; but you cannot reproach
yourself. To have attempted to leave the Nautilus under the circumstances
would have been folly."
Ned Land did not answer; his compressed lips and frowning brow showed
with him the violent possession this fixed idea had taken of his mind.
"Let us see," I continued; "we need not despair yet. We are going up
the coast of Portugal again; France and England are not far off, where we
can easily find refuge. Now if the Nautilus, on leaving the Straits of
Gibraltar, had gone to the south, if it had carried us towards regions
where there were no continents, I should share your uneasiness. But we
know now that Captain Nemo does not fly from civilised seas, and in some
days I think you can act with security."
Ned Land still looked at me fixedly; at length his fixed lips parted,
and he said, "It is for to-night."
I drew myself up suddenly. I was, I admit, little prepared for this
communication. I wanted to answer the Canadian, but words would not come.
"We agreed to wait for an opportunity," continued Ned Land, "and the
opportunity has arrived. This night we shall be but a few miles from the
Spanish coast. It is cloudy. The wind blows freely. I have your word, M.
Aronnax, and I rely upon you."
As I was silent, the Canadian approached me.
"To-night, at nine o'clock," said he. "I have warned Conseil. At that
moment Captain Nemo will be shut up in his room, probably in bed. Neither
the engineers nor the ship's crew can see us. Conseil and I will gain the
central staircase, and you, M. Aronnax, will remain in the library, two
steps from us, waiting my signal. The oars, the mast, and the sail are in
the canoe. I have even succeeded in getting some provisions. I have
procured an English wrench, to unfasten the bolts which attach it to the
shell of the Nautilus. So all is ready, till to-night."
"The sea is bad."
"That I allow," replied the Canadian; "but we must risk that. Liberty
is worth paying for; besides, the boat is strong, and a few miles with a
fair wind to carry us is no great thing. Who knows but by to-morrow we may
be a hundred leagues away? Let circumstances only favour us, and by ten or
eleven o'clock we shall have landed on some spot of terra firma, alive or
dead. But adieu now till to-night."
With these words the Canadian withdrew, leaving me almost dumb. I had
imagined that, the chance gone, I should have time to reflect and discuss
the matter. My obstinate companion had given me no time; and, after all,
what could I have said to him? Ned Land was perfectly right. There was
almost the opportunity to profit by. Could I retract my word, and take
upon myself the responsibility of compromising the future of my
companions? To-morrow Captain Nemo might take us far from all land.
At that moment a rather loud hissing noise told me that the reservoirs
were filling, and that the Nautilus was sinking under the waves of the
Atlantic.
A sad day I passed, between the desire of regaining my liberty of
action and of abandoning the wonderful Nautilus, and leaving my submarine
studies incomplete.
What dreadful hours I passed thus! Sometimes seeing myself and
companions safely landed, sometimes wishing, in spite of my reason, that
some unforeseen circumstance, would prevent the realisation of Ned Land's
project.
Twice I went to the saloon. I wished to consult the compass. I wished
to see if the direction the Nautilus was taking was bringing us nearer or
taking us farther from the coast. But no; the Nautilus kept in Portuguese
waters.
I must therefore take my part and prepare for flight. My luggage was
not heavy; my notes, nothing more.
As to Captain Nemo, I asked myself what he would think of our escape;
what trouble, what wrong it might cause him and what he might do in case
of its discovery or failure. Certainly I had no cause to complain of him;
on the contrary, never was hospitality freer than his. In leaving him I
could not be taxed with ingratitude. No oath bound us to him. It was on
the strength of circumstances he relied, and not upon our word, to fix us
for ever.
I had not seen the Captain since our visit to the Island of Santorin.
Would chance bring me to his presence before our departure? I wished it,
and I feared it at the same time. I listened if I could hear him walking
the room contiguous to mine. No sound reached my ear. I felt an unbearable
uneasiness. This day of waiting seemed eternal. Hours struck too slowly to
keep pace with my impatience.
My dinner was served in my room as usual. I ate but little; I was too
preoccupied. I left the table at seven o'clock. A hundred and twenty
minutes (I counted them) still separated me from the moment in which I was
to join Ned Land. My agitation redoubled. My pulse beat violently. I could
not remain quiet. I went and came, hoping to calm my troubled spirit by
constant movement. The idea of failure in our bold enterprise was the
least painful of my anxieties; but the thought of seeing our project
discovered before leaving the Nautilus, of being brought before Captain
Nemo, irritated, or (what was worse) saddened, at my desertion, made my
heart beat.
I wanted to see the saloon for the last time. I descended the stairs
and arrived in the museum, where I had passed so many useful and agreeable
hours. I looked at all its riches, all its treasures, like a man on the
eve of an eternal exile, who was leaving never to return.
These wonders of Nature, these masterpieces of art, amongst which for
so many days my life had been concentrated, I was going to abandon them
for ever! I should like to have taken a last look through the windows of
the saloon into the waters of the Atlantic: but the panels were
hermetically closed, and a cloak of steel separated me from that ocean
which I had not yet explored.
In passing through the saloon, I came near the door let into the angle
which opened into the Captain's room. To my great surprise, this door was
ajar. I drew back involuntarily. If Captain Nemo should be in his room, he
could see me. But, hearing no sound, I drew nearer. The room was deserted.
I pushed open the door and took some steps forward. Still the same
monklike severity of aspect.
Suddenly the clock struck eight. The first beat of the hammer on the
bell awoke me from my dreams. I trembled as if an invisible eye had
plunged into my most secret thoughts, and I hurried from the room.
There my eye fell upon the compass. Our course was still north. The log
indicated moderate speed, the manometer a depth of about sixty feet.
I returned to my room, clothed myself warmly-sea boots, an otterskin
cap, a great coat of byssus, lined with sealskin; I was ready, I was
waiting. The vibration of the screw alone broke the deep silence which
reigned on board. I listened attentively. Would no loud voice suddenly
inform me that Ned Land had been surprised in his projected flight. A
mortal dread hung over me, and I vainly tried to regain my accustomed
coolness.
At a few minutes to nine, I put my ear to the Captain's door. No noise.
I left my room and returned to the saloon, which was half in obscurity,
but deserted.
I opened the door communicating with the library. The same insufficient
light, the same solitude. I placed myself near the door leading to the
central staircase, and there waited for Ned Land's signal.
At that moment the trembling of the screw sensibly diminished, then it
stopped entirely. The silence was now only disturbed by the beatings of my
own heart. Suddenly a slight shock was felt; and I knew that the Nautilus
had stopped at the bottom of the ocean. My uneasiness increased. The
Canadian's signal did not come. I felt inclined to join Ned Land and beg
of him to put off his attempt. I felt that we were not sailing under our
usual conditions.
At this moment the door of the large saloon opened, and Captain Nemo
appeared. He saw me, and without further preamble began in an amiable tone
of voice:
"Ah, sir! I have been looking for you. Do you know the history of
Spain?"
Now, one might know the history of one's own country by heart; but in
the condition I was at the time, with troubled mind and head quite lost, I
could not have said a word of it.
"Well," continued Captain Nemo, "you heard my question! Do you know the
history of Spain?"
"Very slightly," I answered.
"Well, here are learned men having to learn," said the Captain. "Come,
sit down, and I will tell you a curious episode in this history. Sir,
listen well," said he; "this history will interest you on one side, for it
will answer a question which doubtless you have not been able to solve."
"I listen, Captain," said I, not knowing what my interlocutor was
driving at, and asking myself if this incident was bearing on our
projected flight.
"Sir, if you have no objection, we will go back to 1702. You cannot be
ignorant that your king, Louis XIV, thinking that the gesture of a
potentate was sufficient to bring the Pyrenees under his yoke, had imposed
the Duke of Anjou, his grandson, on the Spaniards. This prince reigned
more or less badly under the name of Philip V, and had a strong party
against him abroad. Indeed, the preceding year, the royal houses of
Holland, Austria, and England had concluded a treaty of alliance at the
Hague, with the intention of plucking the crown of Spain from the head of
Philip V, and placing it on that of an archduke to whom they prematurely
gave the title of Charles III.
"Spain must resist this coalition; but she was almost entirely
unprovided with either soldiers or sailors. However, money would not fail
them, provided that their galleons, laden with gold and silver from
America, once entered their ports. And about the end of 1702 they expected
a rich convoy which France was escorting with a fleet of twenty-three
vessels, commanded by Admiral Chateau-Renaud, for the ships of the
coalition were already beating the Atlantic. This convoy was to go to
Cadiz, but the Admiral, hearing that an English fleet was cruising in
those waters, resolved to make for a French port.
"The Spanish commanders of the convoy objected to this decision. They
wanted to be taken to a Spanish port, and, if not to Cadiz, into Vigo Bay,
situated on the northwest coast of Spain, and which was not blocked.
"Admiral Chateau-Renaud had the rashness to obey this injunction, and
the galleons entered Vigo Bay.
"Unfortunately, it formed an open road which could not be defended in
any way. They must therefore hasten to unload the galleons before the
arrival of the combined fleet; and time would not have failed them had not
a miserable question of rivalry suddenly arisen.
"You are following the chain of events?" asked Captain Nemo.
"Perfectly," said I, not knowing the end proposed by this historical
lesson.
"I will continue. This is what passed. The merchants of Cadiz had a
privilege by which they had the right of receiving all merchandise coming
from the West Indies. Now, to disembark these ingots at the port of Vigo
was depriving them of their rights. They complained at Madrid, and
obtained the consent of the weak-minded Philip that the convoy, without
discharging its cargo, should remain sequestered in the roads of Vigo
until the enemy had disappeared.
"But whilst coming to this decision, on the 22nd of October, 1702, the
English vessels arrived in Vigo Bay, when Admiral Chateau-Renaud, in spite
of inferior forces, fought bravely. But, seeing that the treasure must
fall into the enemy's hands, he burnt and scuttled every galleon, which
went to the bottom with their immense riches."
Captain Nemo stopped. I admit I could not see yet why this history
should interest me.
"Well?" I asked.
"Well, M. Aronnax," replied Captain Nemo, "we are in that Vigo Bay; and
it rests with yourself whether you will penetrate its mysteries."
The Captain rose, telling me to follow him. I had had time to recover.
I obeyed. The saloon was dark, but through the transparent glass the waves
were sparkling. I looked.
For half a mile around the Nautilus, the waters seemed bathed in
electric light. The sandy bottom was clean and bright. Some of the ship's
crew in their diving-dresses were clearing away half-rotten barrels and
empty cases from the midst of the blackened wrecks. From these cases and
from these barrels escaped ingots of gold and silver, cascades of piastres
and jewels. The sand was heaped up with them. Laden with their precious
booty, the men returned to the Nautilus, disposed of their burden, and
went back to this inexhaustible fishery of gold and silver.
I understood now. This was the scene of the battle of the 22nd of
October, 1702. Here on this very spot the galleons laden for the Spanish
Government had sunk. Here Captain Nemo came, according to his wants, to
pack up those millions with which he burdened the Nautilus. It was for him
and him alone America had given up her precious metals. He was heir
direct, without anyone to share, in those treasures torn from the Incas
and from the conquered of Ferdinand Cortez.
"Did you know, sir," he asked, smiling, "that the sea contained such
riches?"
"I knew," I answered, "that they value money held in suspension in
these waters at two millions."
"Doubtless; but to extract this money the expense would be greater than
the profit. Here, on the contrary, I have but to pick up what man has
lost-and not only in Vigo Bay, but in a thousand other ports where
shipwrecks have happened, and which are marked on my submarine map. Can
you understand now the source of the millions I am worth?"
"I understand, Captain. But allow me to tell you that in exploring Vigo
Bay you have only been beforehand with a rival society."
"And which?"
"A society which has received from the Spanish Government the privilege
of seeking those buried galleons. The shareholders are led on by the
allurement of an enormous bounty, for they value these rich shipwrecks at
five hundred millions."
"Five hundred millions they were," answered Captain Nemo, "but they are
so no longer."
"Just so," said I; "and a warning to those shareholders would be an act
of charity. But who knows if it would be well received? What gamblers
usually regret above all is less the loss of their money than of their
foolish hopes. After all, I pity them less than the thousands of
unfortunates to whom so much riches well-distributed would have been
profitable, whilst for them they will be for ever barren."
I had no sooner expressed this regret than I felt that it must have
wounded Captain Nemo.
"Barren!" he exclaimed, with animation. "Do you think then, sir, that
these riches are lost because I gather them? Is it for myself alone,
according to your idea, that I take the trouble to collect these
treasures? Who told you that I did not make a good use of it? Do you think
I am ignorant that there are suffering beings and oppressed races on this
earth, miserable creatures to console, victims to avenge? Do you not
understand?"
Captain Nemo stopped at these last words, regretting perhaps that he
had spoken so much. But I had guessed that, whatever the motive which had
forced him to seek independence under the sea, it had left him still a
man, that his heart still beat for the sufferings of humanity, and that
his immense charity was for oppressed races as well as individuals. And I
then understood for whom those millions were destined which were forwarded
by Captain Nemo when the Nautilus was cruising in the waters of Crete.
Chapter IX. A VANISHED CONTINENT
The next morning, the 19th of February, I saw the Canadian enter my
room. I expected this visit. He looked very disappointed.
"Well, sir?" said he.
"Well, Ned, fortune was against us yesterday."
"Yes; that Captain must needs stop exactly at the hour we intended
leaving his vessel."
"Yes, Ned, he had business at his bankers."
"His bankers!"
"Or rather his banking-house; by that I mean the ocean, where his
riches are safer than in the chests of the State."
I then related to the Canadian the incidents of the preceding night,
hoping to bring him back to the idea of not abandoning the Captain; but my
recital had no other result than an energetically expressed regret from
Ned that he had not been able to take a walk on the battlefield of Vigo on
his own account.
"However," said he, "all is not ended. It is only a blow of the harpoon
lost. Another time we must succeed; and to-night, if necessary-"
"In what direction is the Nautilus going?" I asked.
"I do not know," replied Ned.
"Well, at noon we shall see the point."
The Canadian returned to Conseil. As soon as I was dressed, I went into
the saloon. The compass was not reassuring. The course of the Nautilus was
S.S.W. We were turning our backs on Europe.
I waited with some impatience till the ship's place was pricked on the
chart. At about half-past eleven the reservoirs were emptied, and our
vessel rose to the surface of the ocean. I rushed towards the platform.
Ned Land had preceded me. No more land in sight. Nothing but an immense
sea. Some sails on the horizon, doubtless those going to San Roque in
search of favourable winds for doubling the Cape of Good Hope. The weather
was cloudy. A gale of wind was preparing. Ned raved, and tried to pierce
the cloudy horizon. He still hoped that behind all that fog stretched the
land he so longed for.
At noon the sun showed itself for an instant. The second profited by
this brightness to take its height. Then, the sea becoming more billowy,
we descended, and the panel closed.
An hour after, upon consulting the chart, I saw the position of the
Nautilus was marked at 16O 17' long., and 33O 22' lat., at 150 leagues
from the nearest coast. There was no means of flight, and I leave you to
imagine the rage of the Canadian when I informed him of our situation.
For myself, I was not particularly sorry. I felt lightened of the load
which had oppressed me, and was able to return with some degree of
calmness to my accustomed work.
That night, about eleven o'clock, I received a most unexpected visit
from Captain Nemo. He asked me very graciously if I felt fatigued from my
watch of the preceding night. I answered in the negative.
"Then, M. Aronnax, I propose a curious excursion."
"Propose, Captain?"
"You have hitherto only visited the submarine depths by daylight, under
the brightness of the sun. Would it suit you to see them in the darkness
of the night?"
"Most willingly."
"I warn you, the way will be tiring. We shall have far to walk, and
must climb a mountain. The roads are not well kept."
"What you say, Captain, only heightens my curiosity; I am ready to
follow you."
"Come then, sir, we will put on our diving-dresses."
Arrived at the robing-room, I saw that neither of my companions nor any
of the ship's crew were to follow us on this excursion. Captain Nemo had
not even proposed my taking with me either Ned or Conseil.
In a few moments we had put on our diving-dresses; they placed on our
backs the reservoirs, abundantly filled with air, but no electric lamps
were prepared. I called the Captain's attention to the fact.
"They will be useless," he replied.
I thought I had not heard aright, but I could not repeat my
observation, for the Captain's head had already disappeared in its metal
case. I finished harnessing myself. I felt them put an iron-pointed stick
into my hand, and some minutes later, after going through the usual form,
we set foot on the bottom of the Atlantic at a depth of 150 fathoms.
Midnight was near. The waters were profoundly dark, but Captain Nemo
pointed out in the distance a reddish spot, a sort of large light shining
brilliantly about two miles from the Nautilus. What this fire might be,
what could feed it, why and how it lit up the liquid mass, I could not
say. In any case, it did light our way, vaguely, it is true, but I soon
accustomed myself to the peculiar darkness, and I understood, under such
circumstances, the uselessness of the Ruhmkorff apparatus.
As we advanced, I heard a kind of pattering above my head. The noise
redoubling, sometimes producing a continual shower, I soon understood the
cause. It was rain falling violently, and crisping the surface of the
waves. Instinctively the thought flashed across my mind that I should be
wet through! By the water! in the midst of the water! I could not help
laughing at the odd idea. But, indeed, in the thick diving-dress, the
liquid element is no longer felt, and one only seems to be in an
atmosphere somewhat denser than the terrestrial atmosphere. Nothing more.
After half an hour's walk the soil became stony. Medusae, microscopic
crustacea, and pennatules lit it slightly with their phosphorescent gleam.
I caught a glimpse of pieces of stone covered with millions of zoophytes
and masses of sea weed. My feet often slipped upon this sticky carpet of
sea weed, and without my iron-tipped stick I should have fallen more than
once. In turning round, I could still see the whitish lantern of the
Nautilus beginning to pale in the distance.
But the rosy light which guided us increased and lit up the horizon.
The presence of this fire under water puzzled me in the highest degree.
Was I going towards a natural phenomenon as yet unknown to the savants of
the earth? Or even (for this thought crossed my brain) had the hand of man
aught to do with this conflagration? Had he fanned this flame? Was I to
meet in these depths companions and friends of Captain Nemo whom he was
going to visit, and who, like him, led this strange existence? Should I
find down there a whole colony of exiles who, weary of the miseries of
this earth, had sought and found independence in the deep ocean? All these
foolish and unreasonable ideas pursued me. And in this condition of mind,
over-excited by the succession of wonders continually passing before my
eyes, I should not have been surprised to meet at the bottom of the sea
one of those submarine towns of which Captain Nemo dreamed.
Our road grew lighter and lighter. The white glimmer came in rays from
the summit of a mountain about 800 feet high. But what I saw was simply a
reflection, developed by the clearness of the waters. The source of this
inexplicable light was a fire on the opposite side of the mountain.
In the midst of this stony maze furrowing the bottom of the Atlantic,
Captain Nemo advanced without hesitation. He knew this dreary road.
Doubtless he had often travelled over it, and could not lose himself. I
followed him with unshaken confidence. He seemed to me like a genie of the
sea; and, as he walked before me, I could not help admiring his stature,
which was outlined in black on the luminous horizon.
It was one in the morning when we arrived at the first slopes of the
mountain; but to gain access to them we must venture through the difficult
paths of a vast copse.
Yes; a copse of dead trees, without leaves, without sap, trees
petrified by the action of the water and here and there overtopped by
gigantic pines. It was like a coal-pit still standing, holding by the
roots to the broken soil, and whose branches, like fine black paper
cuttings, showed distinctly on the watery ceiling. Picture to yourself a
forest in the Hartz hanging on to the sides of the mountain, but a forest
swallowed up. The paths were encumbered with seaweed and fucus, between
which grovelled a whole world of crustacea. I went along, climbing the
rocks, striding over extended trunks, breaking the sea bind-weed which
hung from one tree to the other; and frightening the fishes, which flew
from branch to branch. Pressing onward, I felt no fatigue. I followed my
guide, who was never tired. What a spectacle! How can I express it? how
paint the aspect of those woods and rocks in this medium-their under parts
dark and wild, the upper coloured with red tints, by that light which the
reflecting powers of the waters doubled? We climbed rocks which fell
directly after with gigantic bounds and the low growling of an avalanche.
To right and left ran long, dark galleries, where sight was lost. Here
opened vast glades which the hand of man seemed to have worked; and I
sometimes asked myself if some inhabitant of these submarine regions would
not suddenly appear to me.
But Captain Nemo was still mounting. I could not stay behind. I
followed boldly. My stick gave me good help. A false step would have been
dangerous on the narrow passes sloping down to the sides of the gulfs; but
I walked with firm step, without feeling any giddiness. Now I jumped a
crevice, the depth of which would have made me hesitate had it been among
the glaciers on the land; now I ventured on the unsteady trunk of a tree
thrown across from one abyss to the other, without looking under my feet,
having only eyes to admire the wild sites of this region.
There, monumental rocks, leaning on their regularly-cut bases, seemed
to defy all laws of equilibrium. From between their stony knees trees
sprang, like a jet under heavy pressure, and upheld others which upheld
them. Natural towers, large scarps, cut perpendicularly, like a "curtain,"
inclined at an angle which the laws of gravitation could never have
tolerated in terrestrial regions.
Two hours after quitting the Nautilus we had crossed the line of trees,
and a hundred feet above our heads rose the top of the mountain, which
cast a shadow on the brilliant irradiation of the opposite slope. Some
petrified shrubs ran fantastically here and there. Fishes got up under our
feet like birds in the long grass. The massive rocks were rent with
impenetrable fractures, deep grottos, and unfathomable holes, at the
bottom of which formidable creatures might be heard moving. My blood
curdled when I saw enormous antennae blocking my road, or some frightful
claw closing with a noise in the shadow of some cavity. Millions of
luminous spots shone brightly in the midst of the darkness. They were the
eyes of giant crustacea crouched in their holes; giant lobsters setting
themselves up like halberdiers, and moving their claws with the clicking
sound of pincers; titanic crabs, pointed like a gun on its carriage; and
frightful-looking poulps, interweaving their tentacles like a living nest
of serpents.
We had now arrived on the first platform, where other surprises awaited
me. Before us lay some picturesque ruins, which betrayed the hand of man
and not that of the Creator. There were vast heaps of stone, amongst which
might be traced the vague and shadowy forms of castles and temples,
clothed with a world of blossoming zoophytes, and over which, instead of
ivy, sea-weed and fucus threw a thick vegetable mantle. But what was this
portion of the globe which had been swallowed by cataclysms? Who had
placed those rocks and stones like cromlechs of prehistoric times? Where
was I? Whither had Captain Nemo's fancy hurried me?
I would fain have asked him; not being able to, I stopped him- I seized
his arm. But, shaking his head, and pointing to the highest point of the
mountain, he seemed to say:
"Come, come along; come higher!"
I followed, and in a few minutes I had climbed to the top, which for a
circle of ten yards commanded the whole mass of rock.
I looked down the side we had just climbed. The mountain did not rise
more than seven or eight hundred feet above the level of the plain; but on
the opposite side it commanded from twice that height the depths of this
part of the Atlantic. My eyes ranged far over a large space lit by a
violent fulguration. In fact, the mountain was a volcano.
At fifty feet above the peak, in the midst of a rain of stones and
scoriae, a large crater was vomiting forth torrents of lava which fell in
a cascade of fire into the bosom of the liquid mass. Thus situated, this
volcano lit the lower plain like an immense torch, even to the extreme
limits of the horizon. I said that the submarine crater threw up lava, but
no flames. Flames require the oxygen of the air to feed upon and cannot be
developed under water; but streams of lava, having in themselves the
principles of their incandescence, can attain a white heat, fight
vigorously against the liquid element, and turn it to vapour by contact.
Rapid currents bearing all these gases in diffusion and torrents of
lava slid to the bottom of the mountain like an eruption of Vesuvius on
another Terra del Greco.
There indeed under my eyes, ruined, destroyed, lay a town- its roofs
open to the sky, its temples fallen, its arches dislocated, its columns
lying on the ground, from which one would still recognise the massive
character of Tuscan architecture. Further on, some remains of a gigantic
aqueduct; here the high base of an Acropolis, with the floating outline of
a Parthenon; there traces of a quay, as if an ancient port had formerly
abutted on the borders of the ocean, and disappeared with its merchant
vessels and its war-galleys. Farther on again, long lines of sunken walls
and broad, deserted streets- a perfect Pompeii escaped beneath the waters.
Such was the sight that Captain Nemo brought before my eyes!
Where was I? Where was I? I must know at any cost. I tried to speak,
but Captain Nemo stopped me by a gesture, and, picking up a piece of
chalk-stone, advanced to a rock of black basalt, and traced the one word:
ATLANTIS
What a light shot through my mind! Atlantis! the Atlantis of Plato,
that continent denied by Origen and Humbolt, who placed its disappearance
amongst the legendary tales. I had it there now before my eyes, bearing
upon it the unexceptionable testimony of its catastrophe. The region thus
engulfed was beyond Europe, Asia, and Lybia, beyond the columns of
Hercules, where those powerful people, the Atlantides, lived, against whom
the first wars of ancient Greeks were waged.
Thus, led by the strangest destiny, I was treading under foot the
mountains of this continent, touching with my hand those ruins a thousand
generations old and contemporary with the geological epochs. I was walking
on the very spot where the contemporaries of the first man had walked.
Whilst I was trying to fix in my mind every detail of this grand
landscape, Captain Nemo remained motionless, as if petrified in mute
ecstasy, leaning on a mossy stone. Was he dreaming of those generations
long since disappeared? Was he asking them the secret of human destiny?
Was it here this strange man came to steep himself in historical
recollections, and live again this ancient life-he who wanted no modern
one? What would I not have given to know his thoughts, to share them, to
understand them! We remained for an hour at this place, contemplating the
vast plains under the brightness of the lava, which was some times
wonderfully intense. Rapid tremblings ran along the mountain caused by
internal bubblings, deep noise, distinctly transmitted through the liquid
medium were echoed with majestic grandeur. At this moment the moon
appeared through the mass of waters and threw her pale rays on the buried
continent. It was but a gleam, but what an indescribable effect! The
Captain rose, cast one last look on the immense plain, and then bade me
follow him.
We descended the mountain rapidly, and, the mineral forest once passed,
I saw the lantern of the Nautilus shining like a star. The Captain walked
straight to it, and we got on board as the first rays of light whitened
the surface of the ocean.
Chapter X. THE SUBMARINE COAL-MINES
The next day, the 20th of February, I awoke very late: the fatigues of
the previous night had prolonged my sleep until eleven o'clock. I dressed
quickly, and hastened to find the course the Nautilus was taking. The
instruments showed it to be still toward the south, with a speed of twenty
miles an hour and a depth of fifty fathoms.
The species of fishes here did not differ much from those already
noticed. There were rays of giant size, five yards long, and endowed with
great muscular strength, which enabled them to shoot above the waves;
sharks of many kinds; amongst others, one fifteen feet long, with
triangular sharp teeth, and whose transparency rendered it almost
invisible in the water.
Amongst bony fish Conseil noticed some about three yards long, armed at
the upper jaw with a piercing sword; other bright-coloured creatures,
known in the time of Aristotle by the name of the sea-dragon, which are
dangerous to capture on account of the spikes on their back.
About four o'clock, the soil, generally composed of a thick mud mixed
with petrified wood, changed by degrees, and it became more stony, and
seemed strewn with conglomerate and pieces of basalt, with a sprinkling of
lava. I thought that a mountainous region was succeeding the long plains;
and accordingly, after a few evolutions of the Nautilus, I saw the
southerly horizon blocked by a high wall which seemed to close all exit.
Its summit evidently passed the level of the ocean. It must be a
continent, or at least an island-one of the Canaries, or of the Cape Verde
Islands. The bearings not being yet taken, perhaps designedly, I was
ignorant of our exact position. In any case, such a wall seemed to me to
mark the limits of that Atlantis, of which we had in reality passed over
only the smallest part.
Much longer should I have remained at the window admiring the beauties
of sea and sky, but the panels closed. At this moment the Nautilus arrived
at the side of this high, perpendicular wall. What it would do, I could
not guess. I returned to my room; it no longer moved. I laid myself down
with the full intention of waking after a few hours' sleep; but it was
eight o'clock the next day when I entered the saloon. I looked at the
manometer. It told me that the Nautilus was floating on the surface of the
ocean. Besides, I heard steps on the platform. I went to the panel. It was
open; but, instead of broad daylight, as I expected, I was surrounded by
profound darkness. Where were we? Was I mistaken? Was it still night? No;
not a star was shining and night has not that utter darkness.
I knew not what to think, when a voice near me said:
"Is that you, Professor?"
"Ah! Captain," I answered, "where are we?"
"Underground, sir."
"Underground!" I exclaimed. "And the Nautilus floating still?"
"It always floats."
"But I do not understand."
"Wait a few minutes, our lantern will be lit, and, if you like light
places, you will be satisfied."
I stood on the platform and waited. The darkness was so complete that I
could not even see Captain Nemo; but, looking to the zenith, exactly above
my head, I seemed to catch an undecided gleam, a kind of twilight filling
a circular hole. At this instant the lantern was lit, and its vividness
dispelled the faint light. I closed my dazzled eyes for an instant, and
then looked again. The Nautilus was stationary, floating near a mountain
which formed a sort of quay. The lake, then, supporting it was a lake
imprisoned by a circle of walls, measuring two miles in diameter and six
in circumference. Its level (the manometer showed) could only be the same
as the outside level, for there must necessarily be a communication
between the lake and the sea. The high partitions, leaning forward on
their base, grew into a vaulted roof bearing the shape of an immense
funnel turned upside down, the height being about five or six hundred
yards. At the summit was a circular orifice, by which I had caught the
slight gleam of light, evidently daylight.
"Where are we?" I asked.
"In the very heart of an extinct volcano, the interior of which has
been invaded by the sea, after some great convulsion of the earth. Whilst
you were sleeping, Professor, the Nautilus penetrated to this lagoon by a
natural canal, which opens about ten yards beneath the surface of the
ocean. This is its harbour of refuge, a sure, commodious, and mysterious
one, sheltered from all gales. Show me, if you can, on the coasts of any
of your continents or islands, a road which can give such perfect refuge
from all storms."
"Certainly," I replied, "you are in safety here, Captain Nemo. Who
could reach you in the heart of a volcano? But did I not see an opening at
its summit?"
"Yes; its crater, formerly filled with lava, vapour, and flames, and
which now gives entrance to the life-giving air we breathe."
"But what is this volcanic mountain?"
"It belongs to one of the numerous islands with which this sea is
strewn-to vessels a simple sandbank-to us an immense cavern. Chance led me
to discover it, and chance served me well."
"But of what use is this refuge, Captain? The Nautilus wants no port."
"No, sir; but it wants electricity to make it move, and the wherewithal
to make the electricity-sodium to feed the elements, coal from which to
get the sodium, and a coal-mine to supply the coal. And exactly on this
spot the sea covers entire forests embedded during the geological periods,
now mineralised and transformed into coal; for me they are an
inexhaustible mine."
"Your men follow the trade of miners here, then, Captain?"
"Exactly so. These mines extend under the waves like the mines of
Newcastle. Here, in their diving-dresses, pick axe and shovel in hand, my
men extract the coal, which I do not even ask from the mines of the earth.
When I burn this combustible for the manufacture of sodium, the smoke,
escaping from the crater of the mountain, gives it the appearance of a
still-active volcano."
"And we shall see your companions at work?"
"No; not this time at least; for I am in a hurry to continue our
submarine tour of the earth. So I shall content myself with drawing from
the reserve of sodium I already possess. The time for loading is one day
only, and we continue our voyage. So, if you wish to go over the cavern
and make the round of the lagoon, you must take advantage of to-day, M.
Aronnax."
I thanked the Captain and went to look for my companions, who had not
yet left their cabin. I invited them to follow me without saying where we
were. They mounted the platform. Conseil, who was astonished at nothing,
seemed to look upon it as quite natural that he should wake under a
mountain, after having fallen asleep under the waves. But Ned Land thought
of nothing but finding whether the cavern had any exit. After breakfast,
about ten o'clock, we went down on to the mountain.
"Here we are, once more on land," said Conseil.
"I do not call this land," said the Canadian. "And besides, we are not
on it, but beneath it."
Between the walls of the mountains and the waters of the lake lay a
sandy shore which, at its greatest breadth, measured five hundred feet. On
this soil one might easily make the tour of the lake. But the base of the
high partitions was stony ground, with volcanic locks and enormous
pumice-stones lying in picturesque heaps. All these detached masses,
covered with enamel, polished by the action of the subterraneous fires,
shone resplendent by the light of our electric lantern. The mica dust from
the shore, rising under our feet, flew like a cloud of sparks. The bottom
now rose sensibly, and we soon arrived at long circuitous slopes, or
inclined planes, which took us higher by degrees; but we were obliged to
walk carefully among these conglomerates, bound by no cement, the feet
slipping on the glassy crystal, felspar, and quartz.
The volcanic nature of this enormous excavation was confirmed on all
sides, and I pointed it out to my companions.
"Picture to yourselves," said I, "what this crater must have been when
filled with boiling lava, and when the level of the incandescent liquid
rose to the orifice of the mountain, as though melted on the top of a hot
plate."
"I can picture it perfectly," said Conseil. "But, sir, will you tell me
why the Great Architect has suspended operations, and how it is that the
furnace is replaced by the quiet waters of the lake?"
"Most probably, Conseil, because some convulsion beneath the ocean
produced that very opening which has served as a passage for the Nautilus.
Then the waters of the Atlantic rushed into the interior of the mountain.
There must have been a terrible struggle between the two elements, a
struggle which ended in the victory of Neptune. But many ages have run out
since then, and the submerged volcano is now a peaceable grotto."
"Very well," replied Ned Land; "I accept the explanation, sir; but, in
our own interests, I regret that the opening of which you speak was not
made above the level of the sea."
"But, friend Ned," said Conseil, "if the passage had not been under the
sea, the Nautilus could not have gone through it."
We continued ascending. The steps became more and more perpendicular
and narrow. Deep excavations, which we were obliged to cross, cut them
here and there; sloping masses had to be turned. We slid upon our knees
and crawled along. But Conseil's dexterity and the Canadian's strength
surmounted all obstacles. At a height of about 31 feet the nature of the
ground changed without becoming more practicable. To the conglomerate and
trachyte succeeded black basalt, the first dispread in layers full of
bubbles, the latter forming regular prisms, placed like a colonnade
supporting the spring of the immense vault, an admirable specimen of
natural architecture. Between the blocks of basalt wound long streams of
lava, long since grown cold, encrusted with bituminous rays; and in some
places there were spread large carpets of sulphur. A more powerful light
shone through the upper crater, shedding a vague glimmer over these
volcanic depressions for ever buried in the bosom of this extinguished
mountain. But our upward march was soon stopped at a height of about two
hundred and fifty feet by impassable obstacles. There was a complete
vaulted arch overhanging us, and our ascent was changed to a circular
walk. At the last change vegetable life began to struggle with the
mineral. Some shrubs, and even some trees, grew from the fractures of the
walls. I recognised some euphorbias, with the caustic sugar coming from
them; heliotropes, quite incapable of justifying their name, sadly drooped
their clusters of flowers, both their colour and perfume half gone. Here
and there some chrysanthemums grew timidly at the foot of an aloe with
long, sickly-looking leaves. But between the streams of lava, I saw some
little violets still slightly perfumed, and I admit that I smelt them with
delight. Perfume is the soul of the flower, and sea-flowers have no soul.
We had arrived at the foot of some sturdy dragon-trees, which had
pushed aside the rocks with their strong roots, when Ned Land exclaimed:
"Ah! sir, a hive! a hive!"
"A hive!" I replied, with a gesture of incredulity.
"Yes, a hive," repeated the Canadian, "and bees humming round it."
I approached, and was bound to believe my own eyes. There at a hole
bored in one of the dragon-trees were some thousands of these ingenious
insects, so common in all the Canaries, and whose produce is so much
esteemed. Naturally enough, the Canadian wished to gather the honey, and I
could not well oppose his wish. A quantity of dry leaves, mixed with
sulphur, he lit with a spark from his flint, and he began to smoke out the
bees. The humming ceased by degrees, and the hive eventually yielded
several pounds of the sweetest honey, with which Ned Land filled his
haversack.
"When I have mixed this honey with the paste of the bread-fruit," said
he, "I shall be able to offer you a succulent cake."
{`bread-fruit' has been substituted for `artocarpus' in this ed.}
"'Pon my word," said Conseil, "it will be gingerbread."
"Never mind the gingerbread," said I; "let us continue our interesting
walk."
At every turn of the path we were following, the lake appeared in all
its length and breadth. The lantern lit up the whole of its peaceable
surface, which knew neither ripple nor wave. The Nautilus remained
perfectly immovable. On the platform, and on the mountain, the ship's crew
were working like black shadows clearly carved against the luminous
atmosphere. We were now going round the highest crest of the first layers
of rock which upheld the roof. I then saw that bees were not the only
representatives of the animal kingdom in the interior of this volcano.
Birds of prey hovered here and there in the shadows, or fled from their
nests on the top of the rocks. There were sparrow hawks, with white
breasts, and kestrels, and down the slopes scampered, with their long
legs, several fine fat bustards. I leave anyone to imagine the
covetousness of the Canadian at the sight of this savoury game, and
whether he did not regret having no gun. But he did his best to replace
the lead by stones, and, after several fruitless attempts, he succeeded in
wounding a magnificent bird. To say that he risked his life twenty times
before reaching it is but the truth; but he managed so well that the
creature joined the honey-cakes in his bag. We were now obliged to descend
toward the shore, the crest becoming impracticable. Above us the crater
seemed to gape like the mouth of a well. From this place the sky could be
clearly seen, and clouds, dissipated by the west wind, leaving behind
them, even on the summit of the mountain, their misty remnants-certain
proof that they were only moderately high, for the volcano did not rise
more than eight hundred feet above the level of the ocean. Half an hour
after the Canadian's last exploit we had regained the inner shore. Here
the flora was represented by large carpets of marine crystal, a little
umbelliferous plant very good to pickle, which also bears the name of
pierce-stone and sea-fennel. Conseil gathered some bundles of it. As to
the fauna, it might be counted by thousands of crustacea of all sorts,
lobsters, crabs, spider-crabs, chameleon shrimps, and a large number of
shells, rockfish, and limpets. Three-quarters of an hour later we had
finished our circuitous walk and were on board. The crew had just finished
loading the sodium, and the Nautilus could have left that instant. But
Captain Nemo gave no order. Did he wish to wait until night, and leave the
submarine passage secretly? Perhaps so. Whatever it might be, the next
day, the Nautilus, having left its port, steered clear of all land at a
few yards beneath the waves of the Atlantic.
Chapter XI. THE SARGASSO SEA
That day the Nautilus crossed a singular part of the Atlantic Ocean. No
one can be ignorant of the existence of a current of warm water known by
the name of the Gulf Stream. After leaving the Gulf of Florida, we went in
the direction of Spitzbergen. But before entering the Gulf of Mexico,
about 45O of N. lat., this current divides into two arms, the principal
one going towards the coast of Ireland and Norway, whilst the second bends
to the south about the height of the Azores; then, touching the African
shore, and describing a lengthened oval, returns to the Antilles. This
second arm-it is rather a collar than an arm-surrounds with its circles of
warm water that portion of the cold, quiet, immovable ocean called the
Sargasso Sea, a perfect lake in the open Atlantic: it takes no less than
three years for the great current to pass round it. Such was the region
the Nautilus was now visiting, a perfect meadow, a close carpet of
seaweed, fucus, and tropical berries, so thick and so compact that the
stem of a vessel could hardly tear its way through it. And Captain Nemo,
not wishing to entangle his screw in this herbaceous mass, kept some yards
beneath the surface of the waves. The name Sargasso comes from the Spanish
word "sargazzo" which signifies kelp. This kelp, or berry-plant, is the
principal formation of this immense bank. And this is the reason why these
plants unite in the peaceful basin of the Atlantic. The only explanation
which can be given, he says, seems to me to result from the experience
known to all the world. Place in a vase some fragments of cork or other
floating body, and give to the water in the vase a circular movement, the
scattered fragments will unite in a group in the centre of the liquid
surface, that is to say, in the part least agitated. In the phenomenon we
are considering, the Atlantic is the vase, the Gulf Stream the circular
current, and the Sargasso Sea the central point at which the floating
bodies unite.
I share Maury's opinion, and I was able to study the phenomenon in the
very midst, where vessels rarely penetrate. Above us floated products of
all kinds, heaped up among these brownish plants; trunks of trees torn
from the Andes or the Rocky Mountains, and floated by the Amazon or the
Mississippi; numerous wrecks, remains of keels, or ships' bottoms,
side-planks stove in, and so weighted with shells and barnacles that they
could not again rise to the surface. And time will one day justify Maury's
other opinion, that these substances thus accumulated for ages will become
petrified by the action of the water and will then form inexhaustible
coal-mines- a precious reserve prepared by far-seeing Nature for the
moment when men shall have exhausted the mines of continents.
In the midst of this inextricable mass of plants and sea weed, I
noticed some charming pink halcyons and actiniae, with their long
tentacles trailing after them, and medusae, green, red, and blue.
All the day of the 22nd of February we passed in the Sargasso Sea,
where such fish as are partial to marine plants find abundant nourishment.
The next, the ocean had returned to its accustomed aspect. From this time
for nineteen days, from the 23rd of February to the 12th of March, the
Nautilus kept in the middle of the Atlantic, carrying us at a constant
speed of a hundred leagues in twenty-four hours. Captain Nemo evidently
intended accomplishing his submarine programme, and I imagined that he
intended, after doubling Cape Horn, to return to the Australian seas of
the Pacific. Ned Land had cause for fear. In these large seas, void of
islands, we could not attempt to leave the boat. Nor had we any means of
opposing Captain Nemo's will. Our only course was to submit; but what we
could neither gain by force nor cunning, I liked to think might be
obtained by persuasion. This voyage ended, would he not consent to restore
our liberty, under an oath never to reveal his existence?-an oath of
honour which we should have religiously kept. But we must consider that
delicate question with the Captain. But was I free to claim this liberty?
Had he not himself said from the beginning, in the firmest manner, that
the secret of his life exacted from him our lasting imprisonment on board
the Nautilus? And would not my four months' silence appear to him a tacit
acceptance of our situation? And would not a return to the subject result
in raising suspicions which might be hurtful to our projects, if at some
future time a favourable opportunity offered to return to them?
During the nineteen days mentioned above, no incident of any kind
happened to signalise our voyage. I saw little of the Captain; he was at
work. In the library I often found his books left open, especially those
on natural history. My work on submarine depths, conned over by him, was
covered with marginal notes, often contradicting my theories and systems;
but the Captain contented himself with thus purging my work; it was very
rare for him to discuss it with me. Sometimes I heard the melancholy tones
of his organ; but only at night, in the midst of the deepest obscurity,
when the Nautilus slept upon the deserted ocean. During this part of our
voyage we sailed whole days on the surface of the waves. The sea seemed
abandoned. A few sailing-vessels, on the road to India, were making for
the Cape of Good Hope. One day we were followed by the boats of a whaler,
who, no doubt, took us for some enormous whale of great price; but Captain
Nemo did not wish the worthy fellows to lose their time and trouble, so
ended the chase by plunging under the water. Our navigation continued
until the 13th of March; that day the Nautilus was employed in taking
soundings, which greatly interested me. We had then made about 13,000
leagues since our departure from the high seas of the Pacific. The
bearings gave us 45O 37' S. lat., and 37O 53' W. long. It was the same
water in which Captain Denham of the Herald sounded 7,000 fathoms without
finding the bottom. There, too, Lieutenant Parker, of the American frigate
Congress, could not touch the bottom with 15,140 fathoms. Captain Nemo
intended seeking the bottom of the ocean by a diagonal sufficiently
lengthened by means of lateral planes placed at an angle of 45O with the
water-line of the Nautilus. Then the screw set to work at its maximum
speed, its four blades beating the waves with in describable force. Under
this powerful pressure, the hull of the Nautilus quivered like a sonorous
chord and sank regularly under the water.
At 7,000 fathoms I saw some blackish tops rising from the midst of the
waters; but these summits might belong to high mountains like the
Himalayas or Mont Blanc, even higher; and the depth of the abyss remained
incalculable. The Nautilus descended still lower, in spite of the great
pressure. I felt the steel plates tremble at the fastenings of the bolts;
its bars bent, its partitions groaned; the windows of the saloon seemed to
curve under the pressure of the waters. And this firm structure would
doubtless have yielded, if, as its Captain had said, it had not been
capable of resistance like a solid block. We had attained a depth of
16,000 yards (four leagues), and the sides of the Nautilus then bore a
pressure of 1,600 atmospheres, that is to say, 3,200 lb. to each square
two-fifths of an inch of its surface.
"What a situation to be in!" I exclaimed. "To overrun these deep
regions where man has never trod! Look, Captain, look at these magnificent
rocks, these uninhabited grottoes, these lowest receptacles of the globe,
where life is no longer possible! What unknown sights are here! Why should
we be unable to preserve a remembrance of them?"
"Would you like to carry away more than the remembrance?" said Captain
Nemo.
"What do you mean by those words?"
"I mean to say that nothing is easier than to make a photographic view
of this submarine region."
I had not time to express my surprise at this new proposition, when, at
Captain Nemo's call, an objective was brought into the saloon. Through the
widely-opened panel, the liquid mass was bright with electricity, which
was distributed with such uniformity that not a shadow, not a gradation,
was to be seen in our manufactured light. The Nautilus remained
motionless, the force of its screw subdued by the inclination of its
planes: the instrument was propped on the bottom of the oceanic site, and
in a few seconds we had obtained a perfect negative.
But, the operation being over, Captain Nemo said, "Let us go up; we
must not abuse our position, nor expose the Nautilus too long to such
great pressure."
"Go up again!" I exclaimed.
"Hold well on."
I had not time to understand why the Captain cautioned me thus, when I
was thrown forward on to the carpet. At a signal from the Captain, its
screw was shipped, and its blades raised vertically; the Nautilus shot
into the air like a balloon, rising with stunning rapidity, and cutting
the mass of waters with a sonorous agitation. Nothing was visible; and in
four minutes it had shot through the four leagues which separated it from
the ocean, and, after emerging like a flying-fish, fell, making the waves
rebound to an enormous height.
Chapter XII. CACHALOTS AND WHALES
During the nights of the 13th and 14th of March, the Nautilus returned
to its southerly course. I fancied that, when on a level with Cape Horn,
he would turn the helm westward, in order to beat the Pacific seas, and so
complete the tour of the world. He did nothing of the kind, but continued
on his way to the southern regions. Where was he going to? To the pole? It
was madness! I began to think that the Captain's temerity justified Ned
Land's fears. For some time past the Canadian had not spoken to me of his
projects of flight; he was less communicative, almost silent. I could see
that this lengthened imprisonment was weighing upon him, and I felt that
rage was burning within him. When he met the Captain, his eyes lit up with
suppressed anger; and I feared that his natural violence would lead him
into some extreme. That day, the 14th of March, Conseil and he came to me
in my room. I inquired the cause of their visit.
"A simple question to ask you, sir," replied the Canadian.
"Speak, Ned."
"How many men are there on board the Nautilus, do you think?"
"I cannot tell, my friend."
"I should say that its working does not require a large crew."
"Certainly, under existing conditions, ten men, at the most, ought to
be enough."
"Well, why should there be any more?"
"Why?" I replied, looking fixedly at Ned Land, whose meaning was easy
to guess. "Because," I added, "if my surmises are correct, and if I have
well understood the Captain's existence, the Nautilus is not only a
vessel: it is also a place of refuge for those who, like its commander,
have broken every tie upon earth."
"Perhaps so," said Conseil; "but, in any case, the Nautilus can only
contain a certain number of men. Could not you, sir, estimate their
maximum?"
"How, Conseil?"
"By calculation; given the size of the vessel, which you know, sir, and
consequently the quantity of air it contains, knowing also how much each
man expends at a breath, and comparing these results with the fact that
the Nautilus is obliged to go to the surface every twenty-four hours."
Conseil had not finished the sentence before I saw what he was driving
at.
"I understand," said I; "but that calculation, though simple enough,
can give but a very uncertain result."
"Never mind," said Ned Land urgently.
"Here it is, then," said I. "In one hour each man consumes the oxygen
contained in twenty gallons of air; and in twenty-four, that contained in
480 gallons. We must, therefore find how many times 480 gallons of air the
Nautilus contains."
"Just so," said Conseil.
"Or," I continued, "the size of the Nautilus being 1,500 tons; and one
ton holding 200 gallons, it contains 300,000 gallons of air, which,
divided by 480, gives a quotient of 625. Which means to say, strictly
speaking, that the air contained in the Nautilus would suffice for 625 men
for twenty-four hours."
"Six hundred and twenty-five!" repeated Ned.
"But remember that all of us, passengers, sailors, and officers
included, would not form a tenth part of that number."
"Still too many for three men," murmured Conseil.
The Canadian shook his head, passed his hand across his forehead, and
left the room without answering.
"Will you allow me to make one observation, sir?" said Conseil. "Poor
Ned is longing for everything that he can not have. His past life is
always present to him; everything that we are forbidden he regrets. His
head is full of old recollections. And we must understand him. What has he
to do here? Nothing; he is not learned like you, sir; and has not the same
taste for the beauties of the sea that we have. He would risk everything
to be able to go once more into a tavern in his own country."
Certainly the monotony on board must seem intolerable to the Canadian,
accustomed as he was to a life of liberty and activity. Events were rare
which could rouse him to any show of spirit; but that day an event did
happen which recalled the bright days of the harpooner. About eleven in
the morning, being on the surface of the ocean, the Nautilus fell in with
a troop of whales-an encounter which did not astonish me, knowing that
these creatures, hunted to death, had taken refuge in high latitudes.
We were seated on the platform, with a quiet sea. The month of October
in those latitudes gave us some lovely autumnal days. It was the Canadian-
he could not be mistaken-who signalled a whale on the eastern horizon.
Looking attentively, one might see its black back rise and fall with the
waves five miles from the Nautilus.
"Ah!" exclaimed Ned Land, "if I was on board a whaler, now such a
meeting would give me pleasure. It is one of large size. See with what
strength its blow-holes throw up columns of air an steam! Confound it, why
am I bound to these steel plates?"
"What, Ned," said I, "you have not forgotten your old ideas of fishing?"
"Can a whale-fisher ever forget his old trade, sir? Can he ever tire of
the emotions caused by such a chase?"
"You have never fished in these seas, Ned?"
"Never, sir; in the northern only, and as much in Behring as in Davis
Straits."
"Then the southern whale is still unknown to you. It is the Greenland
whale you have hunted up to this time, and that would not risk passing
through the warm waters of the equator. Whales are localised, according to
their kinds, in certain seas which they never leave. And if one of these
creatures went from Behring to Davis Straits, it must be simply because
there is a passage from one sea to the other, either on the American or
the Asiatic side."
"In that case, as I have never fished in these seas, I do not know the
kind of whale frequenting them!"
"I have told you, Ned."
"A greater reason for making their acquaintance," said Conseil.
"Look! look!" exclaimed the Canadian, "they approach: they aggravate
me; they know that I cannot get at them!"
Ned stamped his feet. His hand trembled, as he grasped an imaginary
harpoon.
"Are these cetaceans as large as those of the northern seas?" asked he.
"Very nearly, Ned."
"Because I have seen large whales, sir, whales measuring a hundred
feet. I have even been told that those of Hullamoch and Umgallick, of the
Aleutian Islands, are sometimes a hundred and fifty feet long."
"That seems to me exaggeration. These creatures are generally much
smaller than the Greenland whale." {this paragraph has been edited}
"Ah!" exclaimed the Canadian, whose eyes had never left the ocean,
"they are coming nearer; they are in the same water as the Nautilus."
Then, returning to the conversation, he said:
"You spoke of the cachalot as a small creature. I have heard of
gigantic ones. They are intelligent cetacea. It is said of some that they
cover themselves with seaweed and fucus, and then are taken for islands.
People encamp upon them, and settle there; lights a fire-"
"And build houses," said Conseil.
"Yes, joker," said Ned Land. "And one fine day the creature plunges,
carrying with it all the inhabitants to the bottom of the sea."
"Something like the travels of Sinbad the Sailor," I replied, laughing.
"Ah!" suddenly exclaimed Ned Land, "it is not one whale; there are
ten-there are twenty-it is a whole troop! And I not able to do anything!
hands and feet tied!"
"But, friend Ned," said Conseil, "why do you not ask Captain Nemo's
permission to chase them?"
Conseil had not finished his sentence when Ned Land had lowered himself
through the panel to seek the Captain. A few minutes afterwards the two
appeared together on the platform.
Captain Nemo watched the troop of cetacea playing on the waters about a
mile from the Nautilus.
"They are southern whales," said he; "there goes the fortune of a whole
fleet of whalers."
"Well, sir," asked the Canadian, "can I not chase them, if only to
remind me of my old trade of harpooner?"
"And to what purpose?" replied Captain Nemo; "only to destroy! We have
nothing to do with the whale-oil on board."
"But, sir," continued the Canadian, "in the Red Sea you allowed us to
follow the dugong."
"Then it was to procure fresh meat for my crew. Here it would be
killing for killing's sake. I know that is a privilege reserved for man,
but I do not approve of such murderous pastime. In destroying the southern
whale (like the Greenland whale, an inoffensive creature), your traders do
a culpable action, Master Land. They have already depopulated the whole of
Baffin's Bay, and are annihilating a class of useful animals. Leave the
unfortunate cetacea alone. They have plenty of natural enemies-cachalots,
swordfish, and sawfish- without you troubling them."
The Captain was right. The barbarous and inconsiderate greed of these
fishermen will one day cause the disappearance of the last whale in the
ocean. Ned Land whistled "Yankee-doodle" between his teeth, thrust his
hands into his pockets, and turned his back upon us. But Captain Nemo
watched the troop of cetacea, and, addressing me, said:
"I was right in saying that whales had natural enemies enough, without
counting man. These will have plenty to do before long. Do you see, M.
Aronnax, about eight miles to leeward, those blackish moving points?"
"Yes, Captain," I replied.
"Those are cachalots-terrible animals, which I have met in troops of
two or three hundred. As to those, they are cruel, mischievous creatures;
they would be right in exterminating them."
The Canadian turned quickly at the last words.
"Well, Captain," said he, "it is still time, in the interest of the
whales."
"It is useless to expose one's self, Professor. The Nautilus will
disperse them. It is armed with a steel spur as good as Master Land's
harpoon, I imagine."
The Canadian did not put himself out enough to shrug his shoulders.
Attack cetacea with blows of a spur! Who had ever heard of such a thing?
"Wait, M. Aronnax," said Captain Nemo. "We will show you something you
have never yet seen. We have no pity for these ferocious creatures. They
are nothing but mouth and teeth."
Mouth and teeth! No one could better describe the macrocephalous
cachalot, which is sometimes more than seventy-five feet long. Its
enormous head occupies one-third of its entire body. Better armed than the
whale, whose upper jaw is furnished only with whalebone, it is supplied
with twenty-five large tusks, about eight inches long, cylindrical and
conical at the top, each weighing two pounds. It is in the upper part of
this enormous head, in great cavities divided by cartilages, that is to be
found from six to eight hundred pounds of that precious oil called
spermaceti. The cachalot is a disagreeable creature, more tadpole than
fish, according to Fredol's description. It is badly formed, the whole of
its left side being (if we may say it), a "failure," and being only able
to see with its right eye. But the formidable troop was nearing us. They
had seen the whales and were preparing to attack them. One could judge
beforehand that the cachalots would be victorious, not only because they
were better built for attack than their inoffensive adversaries, but also
because they could remain longer under water without coming to the
surface. There was only just time to go to the help of the whales. The
Nautilus went under water. Conseil, Ned Land, and I took our places before
the window in the saloon, and Captain Nemo joined the pilot in his cage to
work his apparatus as an engine of destruction. Soon I felt the beatings
of the screw quicken, and our speed increased. The battle between the
cachalots and the whales had already begun when the Nautilus arrived. They
did not at first show any fear at the sight of this new monster joining in
the conflict. But they soon had to guard against its blows. What a battle!
The Nautilus was nothing but a formidable harpoon, brandished by the hand
of its Captain. It hurled itself against the fleshy mass, passing through
from one part to the other, leaving behind it two quivering halves of the
animal. It could not feel the formidable blows from their tails upon its
sides, nor the shock which it produced itself, much more. One cachalot
killed, it ran at the next, tacked on the spot that it might not miss its
prey, going forwards and backwards, answering to its helm, plunging when
the cetacean dived into the deep waters, coming up with it when it
returned to the surface, striking it front or sideways, cutting or tearing
in all directions and at any pace, piercing it with its terrible spur.
What carnage! What a noise on the surface of the waves! What sharp
hissing, and what snorting peculiar to these enraged animals! In the midst
of these waters, generally so peaceful, their tails made perfect billows.
For one hour this wholesale massacre continued, from which the cachalots
could not escape. Several times ten or twelve united tried to crush the
Nautilus by their weight. From the window we could see their enormous
mouths, studded with tusks, and their formidable eyes. Ned Land could not
contain himself; he threatened and swore at them. We could feel them
clinging to our vessel like dogs worrying a wild boar in a copse. But the
Nautilus, working its screw, carried them here and there, or to the upper
levels of the ocean, without caring for their enormous weight, nor the
powerful strain on the vessel. At length the mass of cachalots broke up,
the waves became quiet, and I felt that we were rising to the surface. The
panel opened, and we hurried on to the platform. The sea was covered with
mutilated bodies. A formidable explosion could not have divided and torn
this fleshy mass with more violence. We were floating amid gigantic
bodies, bluish on the back and white underneath, covered with enormous
protuberances. Some terrified cachalots were flying towards the horizon.
The waves were dyed red for several miles, and the Nautilus floated in a
sea of blood: Captain Nemo joined us.
"Well, Master Land?" said he.
"Well, sir," replied the Canadian, whose enthusiasm had somewhat
calmed; "it is a terrible spectacle, certainly. But I am not a butcher. I
am a hunter, and I call this a butchery."
"It is a massacre of mischievous creatures," replied the Captain; "and
the Nautilus is not a butcher's knife."
"I like my harpoon better," said the Canadian.
"Every one to his own," answered the Captain, looking fixedly at Ned
Land.
I feared he would commit some act of violence, which would end in sad
consequences. But his anger was turned by the sight of a whale which the
Nautilus had just come up with. The creature had not quite escaped from
the cachalot's teeth. I recognised the southern whale by its flat head,
which is entirely black. Anatomically, it is distinguished from the white
whale and the North Cape whale by the seven cervical vertebrae, and it has
two more ribs than its congeners. The unfortunate cetacean was lying on
its side, riddled with holes from the bites, and quite dead. From its
mutilated fin still hung a young whale which it could not save from the
massacre. Its open mouth let the water flow in and out, murmuring like the
waves breaking on the shore. Captain Nemo steered close to the corpse of
the creature. Two of his men mounted its side, and I saw, not without
surprise, that they were drawing from its breasts all the milk which they
contained, that is to say, about two or three tons. The Captain offered me
a cup of the milk, which was still warm. I could not help showing my
repugnance to the drink; but he assured me that it was excellent, and not
to be distinguished from cow's milk. I tasted it, and was of his opinion.
It was a useful reserve to us, for in the shape of salt butter or cheese
it would form an agreeable variety from our ordinary food. From that day I
noticed with uneasiness that Ned Land's ill-will towards Captain Nemo
increased, and I resolved to watch the Canadian's gestures closely.
Chapter XIII. THE ICEBERG
The Nautilus was steadily pursuing its southerly course, following the
fiftieth meridian with considerable speed. Did he wish to reach the pole?
I did not think so, for every attempt to reach that point had hitherto
failed. Again, the season was far advanced, for in the Antarctic regions
the 13th of March corresponds with the 13th of September of northern
regions, which begin at the equinoctial season. On the 14th of March I saw
floating ice in latitude 55O, merely pale bits of debris from twenty to
twenty-five feet long, forming banks over which the sea curled. The
Nautilus remained on the surface of the ocean. Ned Land, who had fished in
the Arctic Seas, was familiar with its icebergs; but Conseil and I admired
them for the first time. In the atmosphere towards the southern horizon
stretched a white dazzling band. English whalers have given it the name of
"ice blink." However thick the clouds may be, it is always visible, and
announces the presence of an ice pack or bank. Accordingly, larger blocks
soon appeared, whose brilliancy changed with the caprices of the fog. Some
of these masses showed green veins, as if long undulating lines had been
traced with sulphate of copper; others resembled enormous amethysts with
the light shining through them. Some reflected the light of day upon a
thousand crystal facets. Others shaded with vivid calcareous reflections
resembled a perfect town of marble. The more we neared the south the more
these floating islands increased both in number and importance.
At 60O lat. every pass had disappeared. But, seeking carefully, Captain
Nemo soon found a narrow opening, through which he boldly slipped,
knowing, however, that it would close behind him. Thus, guided by this
clever hand, the Nautilus passed through all the ice with a precision
which quite charmed Conseil; icebergs or mountains, ice-fields or smooth
plains, seeming to have no limits, drift-ice or floating ice-packs, plains
broken up, called palchs when they are circular, and streams when they are
made up of long strips. The temperature was very low; the thermometer
exposed to the air marked 2O or 3O below zero, but we were warmly clad
with fur, at the expense of the sea-bear and seal. The interior of the
Nautilus, warmed regularly by its electric apparatus, defied the most
intense cold. Besides, it would only have been necessary to go some yards
beneath the waves to find a more bearable temperature. Two months earlier
we should have had perpetual daylight in these latitudes; but already we
had had three or four hours of night, and by and by there would be six
months of darkness in these circumpolar regions. On the 15th of March we
were in the latitude of New Shetland and South Orkney. The Captain told me
that formerly numerous tribes of seals inhabited them; but that English
and American whalers, in their rage for destruction, massacred both old
and young; thus, where there was once life and animation, they had left
silence and death.
About eight o'clock on the morning of the 16th of March the Nautilus,
following the fifty-fifth meridian, cut the Antarctic polar circle. Ice
surrounded us on all sides, and closed the horizon. But Captain Nemo went
from one opening to another, still going higher. I cannot express my
astonishment at the beauties of these new regions. The ice took most
surprising forms. Here the grouping formed an oriental town, with
innumerable mosques and minarets; there a fallen city thrown to the earth,
as it were, by some convulsion of nature. The whole aspect was constantly
changed by the oblique rays of the sun, or lost in the greyish fog amidst
hurricanes of snow. Detonations and falls were heard on all sides, great
overthrows of icebergs, which altered the whole landscape like a diorama.
Often seeing no exit, I thought we were definitely prisoners; but,
instinct guiding him at the slightest indication, Captain Nemo would
discover a new pass. He was never mistaken when he saw the thin threads of
bluish water trickling along the ice-fields; and I had no doubt that he
had already ventured into the midst of these Antarctic seas before. On the
16th of March, however, the ice-fields absolutely blocked our road. It was
not the iceberg itself, as yet, but vast fields cemented by the cold. But
this obstacle could not stop Captain Nemo: he hurled himself against it
with frightful violence. The Nautilus entered the brittle mass like a
wedge, and split it with frightful crackings. It was the battering ram of
the ancients hurled by infinite strength. The ice, thrown high in the air,
fell like hail around us. By its own power of impulsion our apparatus made
a canal for itself; some times carried away by its own impetus, it lodged
on the ice-field, crushing it with its weight, and sometimes buried
beneath it, dividing it by a simple pitching movement, producing large
rents in it. Violent gales assailed us at this time, accompanied by thick
fogs, through which, from one end of the platform to the other, we could
see nothing. The wind blew sharply from all parts of the compass, and the
snow lay in such hard heaps that we had to break it with blows of a
pickaxe. The temperature was always at 5O below zero; every outward part
of the Nautilus was covered with ice. A rigged vessel would have been
entangled in the blocked up gorges. A vessel without sails, with
electricity for its motive power, and wanting no coal, could alone brave
such high latitudes. At length, on the 18th of March, after many useless
assaults, the Nautilus was positively blocked. It was no longer either
streams, packs, or ice-fields, but an interminable and immovable barrier,
formed by mountains soldered together.
"An iceberg!" said the Canadian to me.
I knew that to Ned Land, as well as to all other navigators who had
preceded us, this was an inevitable obstacle. The sun appearing for an
instant at noon, Captain Nemo took an observation as near as possible,
which gave our situation at 51O 30' long. and 67O 39' of S. lat. We had
advanced one degree more in this Antarctic region. Of the liquid surface
of the sea there was no longer a glimpse. Under the spur of the Nautilus
lay stretched a vast plain, entangled with confused blocks. Here and there
sharp points and slender needles rising to a height of 200 feet; further
on a steep shore, hewn as it were with an axe and clothed with greyish
tints; huge mirrors, reflecting a few rays of sunshine, half drowned in
the fog. And over this desolate face of nature a stern silence reigned,
scarcely broken by the flapping of the wings of petrels and puffins.
Everything was frozen-even the noise. The Nautilus was then obliged to
stop in its adventurous course amid these fields of ice. In spite of our
efforts, in spite of the powerful means employed to break up the ice, the
Nautilus remained immovable. Generally, when we can proceed no further, we
have return still open to us; but here return was as impossible as
advance, for every pass had closed behind us; and for the few moments when
we were stationary, we were likely to be entirely blocked, which did
indeed happen about two o'clock in the afternoon, the fresh ice forming
around its sides with astonishing rapidity. I was obliged to admit that
Captain Nemo was more than imprudent. I was on the platform at that
moment. The Captain had been observing our situation for some time past,
when he said to me:
"Well, sir, what do you think of this?"
"I think that we are caught, Captain."
"So, M. Aronnax, you really think that the Nautilus cannot disengage
itself?"
"With difficulty, Captain; for the season is already too far advanced
for you to reckon on the breaking of the ice."
"Ah! sir," said Captain Nemo, in an ironical tone, "you will always be
the same. You see nothing but difficulties and obstacles. I affirm that
not only can the Nautilus disengage itself, but also that it can go
further still."
"Further to the South?" I asked, looking at the Captain.
"Yes, sir; it shall go to the pole."
"To the pole!" I exclaimed, unable to repress a gesture of incredulity.
"Yes," replied the Captain, coldly, "to the Antarctic pole- to that
unknown point from whence springs every meridian of the globe. You know
whether I can do as I please with the Nautilus!"
Yes, I knew that. I knew that this man was bold, even to rashness. But
to conquer those obstacles which bristled round the South Pole, rendering
it more inaccessible than the North, which had not yet been reached by the
boldest navigators-was it not a mad enterprise, one which only a maniac
would have conceived? It then came into my head to ask Captain Nemo if he
had ever discovered that pole which had never yet been trodden by a human
creature?
"No, sir," he replied; "but we will discover it together. Where others
have failed, I will not fail. I have never yet led my Nautilus so far into
southern seas; but, I repeat, it shall go further yet."
"I can well believe you, Captain," said I, in a slightly ironical tone.
"I believe you! Let us go ahead! There are no obstacles for us! Let us
smash this iceberg! Let us blow it up; and, if it resists, let us give the
Nautilus wings to fly over it!"
"Over it, sir!" said Captain Nemo, quietly; "no, not over it, but under
it!"
"Under it!" I exclaimed, a sudden idea of the Captain's projects
flashing upon my mind. I understood; the wonderful qualities of the
Nautilus were going to serve us in this superhuman enterprise.
"I see we are beginning to understand one another, sir," said the
Captain, half smiling. "You begin to see the possibility-I should say the
success- of this attempt. That which is impossible for an ordinary vessel
is easy to the Nautilus. If a continent lies before the pole, it must stop
before the continent; but if, on the contrary, the pole is washed by open
sea, it will go even to the pole."
"Certainly," said I, carried away by the Captain's reasoning; "if the
surface of the sea is solidified by the ice, the lower depths are free by
the Providential law which has placed the maximum of density of the waters
of the ocean one degree higher than freezing-point; and, if I am not
mistaken, the portion of this iceberg which is above the water is as one
to four to that which is below."
"Very nearly, sir; for one foot of iceberg above the sea there are
three below it. If these ice mountains are not more than 300 feet above
the surface, they are not more than 900 beneath. And what are 900 feet to
the Nautilus?"
"Nothing, sir."
"It could even seek at greater depths that uniform temperature of
sea-water, and there brave with impunity the thirty or forty degrees of
surface cold."
"Just so, sir-just so," I replied, getting animated.
"The only difficulty," continued Captain Nemo, "is that of remaining
several days without renewing our provision of air."
"Is that all? The Nautilus has vast reservoirs; we can fill them, and
they will supply us with all the oxygen we want."
"Well thought of, M. Aronnax," replied the Captain, smiling. "But, not
wishing you to accuse me of rashness, I will first give you all my
objections."
"Have you any more to make?"
"Only one. It is possible, if the sea exists at the South Pole, that it
may be covered; and, consequently, we shall be unable to come to the
surface."
"Good, sir! but do you forget that the Nautilus is armed with a
powerful spur, and could we not send it diagonally against these fields of
ice, which would open at the shocks."
"Ah! sir, you are full of ideas to-day."
"Besides, Captain," I added, enthusiastically, "why should we not find
the sea open at the South Pole as well as at the North? The frozen poles
of the earth do not coincide, either in the southern or in the northern
regions; and, until it is proved to the contrary, we may suppose either a
continent or an ocean free from ice at these two points of the globe."
"I think so too, M. Aronnax," replied Captain Nemo. "I only wish you to
observe that, after having made so many objections to my project, you are
now crushing me with arguments in its favour!"
The preparations for this audacious attempt now began. The powerful
pumps of the Nautilus were working air into the reservoirs and storing it
at high pressure. About four o'clock, Captain Nemo announced the closing
of the panels on the platform. I threw one last look at the massive
iceberg which we were going to cross. The weather was clear, the
atmosphere pure enough, the cold very great, being 12O below zero; but,
the wind having gone down, this temperature was not so unbearable. About
ten men mounted the sides of the Nautilus, armed with pickaxes to break
the ice around the vessel, which was soon free. The operation was quickly
performed, for the fresh ice was still very thin. We all went below. The
usual reservoirs were filled with the newly-liberated water, and the
Nautilus soon descended. I had taken my place with Conseil in the saloon;
through the open window we could see the lower beds of the Southern Ocean.
The thermometer went up, the needle of the compass deviated on the dial.
At about 900 feet, as Captain Nemo had foreseen, we were floating beneath
the undulating bottom of the iceberg. But the Nautilus went lower still-it
went to the depth of four hundred fathoms. The temperature of the water at
the surface showed twelve degrees, it was now only ten; we had gained two.
I need not say the temperature of the Nautilus was raised by its heating
apparatus to a much higher degree; every manoeuvre was accomplished with
wonderful precision.
"We shall pass it, if you please, sir," said Conseil.
"I believe we shall," I said, in a tone of firm conviction.
In this open sea, the Nautilus had taken its course direct to the pole,
without leaving the fifty-second meridian. From 67O 30' to 90O, twenty-two
degrees and a half of latitude remained to travel; that is, about five
hundred leagues. The Nautilus kept up a mean speed of twenty-six miles an
hour- the speed of an express train. If that was kept up, in forty hours
we should reach the pole.
For a part of the night the novelty of the situation kept us at the
window. The sea was lit with the electric lantern; but it was deserted;
fishes did not sojourn in these imprisoned waters; they only found there a
passage to take them from the Antarctic Ocean to the open polar sea. Our
pace was rapid; we could feel it by the quivering of the long steel body.
About two in the morning I took some hours' repose, and Conseil did the
same. In crossing the waist I did not meet Captain Nemo: I supposed him to
be in the pilot's cage. The next morning, the 19th of March, I took my
post once more in the saloon. The electric log told me that the speed of
the Nautilus had been slackened. It was then going towards the surface;
but prudently emptying its reservoirs very slowly. My heart beat fast.
Were we going to emerge and regain the open polar atmosphere? No! A shock
told me that the Nautilus had struck the bottom of the iceberg, still very
thick, judging from the deadened sound. We had in deed "struck," to use a
sea expression, but in an inverse sense, and at a thousand feet deep. This
would give three thousand feet of ice above us; one thousand being above
the water-mark. The iceberg was then higher than at its borders-not a very
reassuring fact. Several times that day the Nautilus tried again, and
every time it struck the wall which lay like a ceiling above it. Sometimes
it met with but 900 yards, only 200 of which rose above the surface. It
was twice the height it was when the Nautilus had gone under the waves. I
carefully noted the different depths, and thus obtained a submarine
profile of the chain as it was developed under the water. That night no
change had taken place in our situation. Still ice between four and five
hundred yards in depth! It was evidently diminishing, but, still, what a
thickness between us and the surface of the ocean! It was then eight.
According to the daily custom on board the Nautilus, its air should have
been renewed four hours ago; but I did not suffer much, although Captain
Nemo had not yet made any demand upon his reserve of oxygen. My sleep was
painful that night; hope and fear besieged me by turns: I rose several
times. The groping of the Nautilus continued. About three in the morning,
I noticed that the lower surface of the iceberg was only about fifty feet
deep. One hundred and fifty feet now separated us from the surface of the
waters. The iceberg was by degrees becoming an ice-field, the mountain a
plain. My eyes never left the manometer. We were still rising diagonally
to the surface, which sparkled under the electric rays. The iceberg was
stretching both above and beneath into lengthening slopes; mile after mile
it was getting thinner. At length, at six in the morning of that memorable
day, the 19th of March, the door of the saloon opened, and Captain Nemo
appeared.
"The sea is open!!" was all he said.
Chapter XIV. THE SOUTH POLE
I rushed on to the platform. Yes! the open sea, with but a few
scattered pieces of ice and moving icebergs-a long stretch of sea; a world
of birds in the air, and myriads of fishes under those waters, which
varied from intense blue to olive green, according to the bottom. The
thermometer marked 3O C. above zero. It was comparatively spring, shut up
as we were behind this iceberg, whose lengthened mass was dimly seen on
our northern horizon.
"Are we at the pole?" I asked the Captain, with a beating heart.
"I do not know," he replied. "At noon I will take our bearings."
"But will the sun show himself through this fog?" said I, looking at
the leaden sky.
"However little it shows, it will be enough," replied the Captain.
About ten miles south a solitary island rose to a height of one hundred
and four yards. We made for it, but carefully, for the sea might be strewn
with banks. One hour afterwards we had reached it, two hours later we had
made the round of it. It measured four or five miles in circumference. A
narrow canal separated it from a considerable stretch of land, perhaps a
continent, for we could not see its limits. The existence of this land
seemed to give some colour to Maury's theory. The ingenious American has
remarked that, between the South Pole and the sixtieth parallel, the sea
is covered with floating ice of enormous size, which is never met with in
the North Atlantic. From this fact he has drawn the conclusion that the
Antarctic Circle encloses considerable continents, as icebergs cannot form
in open sea, but only on the coasts. According to these calculations, the
mass of ice surrounding the southern pole forms a vast cap, the
circumference of which must be, at least, 2,500 miles. But the Nautilus,
for fear of running aground, had stopped about three cable-lengths from a
strand over which reared a superb heap of rocks. The boat was launched;
the Captain, two of his men, bearing instruments, Conseil, and myself were
in it. It was ten in the morning. I had not seen Ned Land. Doubtless the
Canadian did not wish to admit the presence of the South Pole. A few
strokes of the oar brought us to the sand, where we ran ashore. Conseil
was going to jump on to the land, when I held him back.
"Sir," said I to Captain Nemo, "to you belongs the honour of first
setting foot on this land."
"Yes, sir," said the Captain, "and if I do not hesitate to tread this
South Pole, it is because, up to this time, no human being has left a
trace there."
Saying this, he jumped lightly on to the sand. His heart beat with
emotion. He climbed a rock, sloping to a little promontory, and there,
with his arms crossed, mute and motionless, and with an eager look, he
seemed to take possession of these southern regions. After five minutes
passed in this ecstasy, he turned to us.
"When you like, sir."
I landed, followed by Conseil, leaving the two men in the boat. For a
long way the soil was composed of a reddish sandy stone, something like
crushed brick, scoriae, streams of lava, and pumice-stones. One could not
mistake its volcanic origin. In some parts, slight curls of smoke emitted
a sulphurous smell, proving that the internal fires had lost nothing of
their expansive powers, though, having climbed a high acclivity, I could
see no volcano for a radius of several miles. We know that in those
Antarctic countries, James Ross found two craters, the Erebus and Terror,
in full activity, on the 167th meridian, latitude 77O 32'. The vegetation
of this desolate continent seemed to me much restricted. Some lichens lay
upon the black rocks; some microscopic plants, rudimentary diatomas, a
kind of cells placed between two quartz shells; long purple and scarlet
weed, supported on little swimming bladders, which the breaking of the
waves brought to the shore. These constituted the meagre flora of this
region. The shore was strewn with molluscs, little mussels, and limpets. I
also saw myriads of northern clios, one-and-a-quarter inches long, of
which a whale would swallow a whole world at a mouthful; and some perfect
sea-butterflies, animating the waters on the skirts of the shore.
There appeared on the high bottoms some coral shrubs, of the kind
which, according to James Ross, live in the Antarctic seas to the depth of
more than 1,000 yards. Then there were little kingfishers and starfish
studding the soil. But where life abounded most was in the air. There
thousands of birds fluttered and flew of all kinds, deafening us with
their cries; others crowded the rock, looking at us as we passed by
without fear, and pressing familiarly close by our feet. There were
penguins, so agile in the water, heavy and awkward as they are on the
ground; they were uttering harsh cries, a large assembly, sober in
gesture, but extravagant in clamour. Albatrosses passed in the air, the
expanse of their wings being at least four yards and a half, and justly
called the vultures of the ocean; some gigantic petrels, and some damiers,
a kind of small duck, the underpart of whose body is black and white; then
there were a whole series of petrels, some whitish, with brown-bordered
wings, others blue, peculiar to the Antarctic seas, and so oily, as I told
Conseil, that the inhabitants of the Ferroe Islands had nothing to do
before lighting them but to put a wick in.
"A little more," said Conseil, "and they would be perfect lamps! After
that, we cannot expect Nature to have previously furnished them with
wicks!"
About half a mile farther on the soil was riddled with ruffs' nests, a
sort of laying-ground, out of which many birds were issuing. Captain Nemo
had some hundreds hunted. They uttered a cry like the braying of an ass,
were about the size of a goose, slate-colour on the body, white beneath,
with a yellow line round their throats; they allowed themselves to be
killed with a stone, never trying to escape. But the fog did not lift, and
at eleven the sun had not yet shown itself. Its absence made me uneasy.
Without it no observations were possible. How, then, could we decide
whether we had reached the pole? When I rejoined Captain Nemo, I found him
leaning on a piece of rock, silently watching the sky. He seemed impatient
and vexed. But what was to be done? This rash and powerful man could not
command the sun as he did the sea. Noon arrived without the orb of day
showing itself for an instant. We could not even tell its position behind
the curtain of fog; and soon the fog turned to snow.
"Till to-morrow," said the Captain, quietly, and we returned to the
Nautilus amid these atmospheric disturbances.
The tempest of snow continued till the next day. It was impossible to
remain on the platform. From the saloon, where I was taking notes of
incidents happening during this excursion to the polar continent, I could
hear the cries of petrels and albatrosses sporting in the midst of this
violent storm. The Nautilus did not remain motionless, but skirted the
coast, advancing ten miles more to the south in the half-light left by the
sun as it skirted the edge of the horizon. The next day, the 20th of
March, the snow had ceased. The cold was a little greater, the thermometer
showing 2O below zero. The fog was rising, and I hoped that that day our
observations might be taken. Captain Nemo not having yet appeared, the
boat took Conseil and myself to land. The soil was still of the same
volcanic nature; everywhere were traces of lava, scoriae, and basalt; but
the crater which had vomited them I could not see. Here, as lower down,
this continent was alive with myriads of birds. But their rule was now
divided with large troops of sea-mammals, looking at us with their soft
eyes. There were several kinds of seals, some stretched on the earth, some
on flakes of ice, many going in and out of the sea. They did not flee at
our approach, never having had anything to do with man; and I reckoned
that there were provisions there for hundreds of vessels.
"Sir," said Conseil, "will you tell me the names of these creatures?"
"They are seals and morses."
It was now eight in the morning. Four hours remained to us before the
sun could be observed with advantage. I directed our steps towards a vast
bay cut in the steep granite shore. There, I can aver that earth and ice
were lost to sight by the numbers of sea-mammals covering them, and I
involuntarily sought for old Proteus, the mythological shepherd who
watched these immense flocks of Neptune. There were more seals than
anything else, forming distinct groups, male and female, the father
watching over his family, the mother suckling her little ones, some
already strong enough to go a few steps. When they wished to change their
place, they took little jumps, made by the contraction of their bodies,
and helped awkwardly enough by their imperfect fin, which, as with the
lamantin, their cousins, forms a perfect forearm. I should say that, in
the water, which is their element-the spine of these creatures is
flexible; with smooth and close skin and webbed feet-they swim admirably.
In resting on the earth they take the most graceful attitudes. Thus the
ancients, observing their soft and expressive looks, which cannot be
surpassed by the most beautiful look a woman can give, their clear
voluptuous eyes, their charming positions, and the poetry of their
manners, metamorphosed them, the male into a triton and the female into a
mermaid. I made Conseil notice the considerable development of the lobes
of the brain in these interesting cetaceans. No mammal, except man, has
such a quantity of brain matter; they are also capable of receiving a
certain amount of education, are easily domesticated, and I think, with
other naturalists, that if properly taught they would be of great service
as fishing-dogs. The greater part of them slept on the rocks or on the
sand. Amongst these seals, properly so called, which have no external ears
(in which they differ from the otter, whose ears are prominent), I noticed
several varieties of seals about three yards long, with a white coat,
bulldog heads, armed with teeth in both jaws, four incisors at the top and
four at the bottom, and two large canine teeth in the shape of a
fleur-de-lis. Amongst them glided sea-elephants, a kind of seal, with
short, flexible trunks. The giants of this species measured twenty feet
round and ten yards and a half in length; but they did not move as we
approached.
"These creatures are not dangerous?" asked Conseil.
"No; not unless you attack them. When they have to defend their young
their rage is terrible, and it is not uncommon for them to break the
fishing-boats to pieces."
"They are quite right," said Conseil.
"I do not say they are not."
Two miles farther on we were stopped by the promontory which shelters
the bay from the southerly winds. Beyond it we heard loud bellowings such
as a troop of ruminants would produce.
"Good!" said Conseil; "a concert of bulls!"
"No; a concert of morses."
"They are fighting!"
"They are either fighting or playing."
We now began to climb the blackish rocks, amid unforeseen stumbles, and
over stones which the ice made slippery. More than once I rolled over at
the expense of my loins. Conseil, more prudent or more steady, did not
stumble, and helped me up, saying:
"If, sir, you would have the kindness to take wider steps, you would
preserve your equilibrium better."
Arrived at the upper ridge of the promontory, I saw a vast white plain
covered with morses. They were playing amongst themselves, and what we
heard were bellowings of pleasure, not of anger.
As I passed these curious animals I could examine them leisurely, for
they did not move. Their skins were thick and rugged, of a yellowish tint,
approaching to red; their hair was short and scant. Some of them were four
yards and a quarter long. Quieter and less timid than their cousins of the
north, they did not, like them, place sentinels round the outskirts of
their encampment. After examining this city of morses, I began to think of
returning. It was eleven o'clock, and, if Captain Nemo found the
conditions favourable for observations, I wished to be present at the
operation. We followed a narrow pathway running along the summit of the
steep shore. At half-past eleven we had reached the place where we landed.
The boat had run aground, bringing the Captain. I saw him standing on a
block of basalt, his instruments near him, his eyes fixed on the northern
horizon, near which the sun was then describing a lengthened curve. I took
my place beside him, and waited without speaking. Noon arrived, and, as
before, the sun did not appear. It was a fatality. Observations were still
wanting. If not accomplished to-morrow, we must give up all idea of taking
any. We were indeed exactly at the 20th of March. To-morrow, the 21st,
would be the equinox; the sun would disappear behind the horizon for six
months, and with its disappearance the long polar night would begin. Since
the September equinox it had emerged from the northern horizon, rising by
lengthened spirals up to the 21st of December. At this period, the summer
solstice of the northern regions, it had begun to descend; and to-morrow
was to shed its last rays upon them. I communicated my fears and
observations to Captain Nemo.
"You are right, M. Aronnax," said he; "if to-morrow I cannot take the
altitude of the sun, I shall not be able to do it for six months. But
precisely because chance has led me into these seas on the 21st of March,
my bearings will be easy to take, if at twelve we can see the sun."
"Why, Captain?"
"Because then the orb of day described such lengthened curves that it
is difficult to measure exactly its height above the horizon, and grave
errors may be made with instruments."
"What will you do then?"
"I shall only use my chronometer," replied Captain Nemo. "If to-morrow,
the 21st of March, the disc of the sun, allowing for refraction, is
exactly cut by the northern horizon, it will show that I am at the South
Pole."
"Just so," said I. "But this statement is not mathematically correct,
because the equinox does not necessarily begin at noon."
"Very likely, sir; but the error will not be a hundred yards and we do
not want more. Till to-morrow, then!"
Captain Nemo returned on board. Conseil and I remained to survey the
shore, observing and studying until five o'clock. Then I went to bed, not,
however, without invoking, like the Indian, the favour of the radiant orb.
The next day, the 21st of March, at five in the morning, I mounted the
platform. I found Captain Nemo there.
"The weather is lightening a little," said he. "I have some hope. After
breakfast we will go on shore and choose a post for observation."
That point settled, I sought Ned Land. I wanted to take him with me.
But the obstinate Canadian refused, and I saw that his taciturnity and his
bad humour grew day by day. After all, I was not sorry for his obstinacy
under the circumstances. Indeed, there were too many seals on shore, and
we ought not to lay such temptation in this unreflecting fisherman's way.
Breakfast over, we went on shore. The Nautilus had gone some miles further
up in the night. It was a whole league from the coast, above which reared
a sharp peak about five hundred yards high. The boat took with me Captain
Nemo, two men of the crew, and the instruments, which consisted of a
chronometer, a telescope, and a barometer. While crossing, I saw numerous
whales belonging to the three kinds peculiar to the southern seas; the
whale, or the English "right whale," which has no dorsal fin; the
"humpback," with reeved chest and large, whitish fins, which, in spite of
its name, do not form wings; and the fin-back, of a yellowish brown, the
liveliest of all the cetacea. This powerful creature is heard a long way
off when he throws to a great height columns of air and vapour, which look
like whirlwinds of smoke. These different mammals were disporting
themselves in troops in the quiet waters; and I could see that this basin
of the Antarctic Pole serves as a place of refuge to the cetacea too
closely tracked by the hunters. I also noticed large medusae floating
between the reeds.
At nine we landed; the sky was brightening, the clouds were flying to
the south, and the fog seemed to be leaving the cold surface of the
waters. Captain Nemo went towards the peak, which he doubtless meant to be
his observatory. It was a painful ascent over the sharp lava and the
pumice-stones, in an atmosphere often impregnated with a sulphurous smell
from the smoking cracks. For a man unaccustomed to walk on land, the
Captain climbed the steep slopes with an agility I never saw equalled and
which a hunter would have envied. We were two hours getting to the summit
of this peak, which was half porphyry and half basalt. From thence we
looked upon a vast sea which, towards the north, distinctly traced its
boundary line upon the sky. At our feet lay fields of dazzling whiteness.
Over our heads a pale azure, free from fog. To the north the disc of the
sun seemed like a ball of fire, already horned by the cutting of the
horizon. From the bosom of the water rose sheaves of liquid jets by
hundreds. In the distance lay the Nautilus like a cetacean asleep on the
water. Behind us, to the south and east, an immense country and a chaotic
heap of rocks and ice, the limits of which were not visible. On arriving
at the summit Captain Nemo carefully took the mean height of the
barometer, for he would have to consider that in taking his observations.
At a quarter to twelve the sun, then seen only by refraction, looked like
a golden disc shedding its last rays upon this deserted continent and seas
which never man had yet ploughed. Captain Nemo, furnished with a
lenticular glass which, by means of a mirror, corrected the refraction,
watched the orb sinking below the horizon by degrees, following a
lengthened diagonal. I held the chronometer. My heart beat fast. If the
disappearance of the half-disc of the sun coincided with twelve o'clock on
the chronometer, we were at the pole itself.
"Twelve!" I exclaimed.
"The South Pole!" replied Captain Nemo, in a grave voice, handing me
the glass, which showed the orb cut in exactly equal parts by the horizon.
I looked at the last rays crowning the peak, and the shadows mounting
by degrees up its slopes. At that moment Captain Nemo, resting with his
hand on my shoulder, said:
"I, Captain Nemo, on this 21st day of March, 1868, have reached the
South Pole on the ninetieth degree; and I take possession of this part of
the globe, equal to one-sixth of the known continents."
"In whose name, Captain?"
"In my own, sir!"
Saying which, Captain Nemo unfurled a black banner, bearing an "N" in
gold quartered on its bunting. Then, turning towards the orb of day, whose
last rays lapped the horizon of the sea, he exclaimed:
"Adieu, sun! Disappear, thou radiant orb! rest beneath this open sea,
and let a night of six months spread its shadows over my new domains!"
Chapter XV. ACCIDENT OR INCIDENT?
The next day, the 22nd of March, at six in the morning, preparations
for departure were begun. The last gleams of twilight were melting into
night. The cold was great, the constellations shone with wonderful
intensity. In the zenith glittered that wondrous Southern Cross- the polar
bear of Antarctic regions. The thermometer showed 120 below zero, and when
the wind freshened it was most biting. Flakes of ice increased on the open
water. The sea seemed everywhere alike. Numerous blackish patches spread
on the surface, showing the formation of fresh ice. Evidently the southern
basin, frozen during the six winter months, was absolutely inaccessible.
What became of the whales in that time? Doubtless they went beneath the
icebergs, seeking more practicable seas. As to the seals and morses,
accustomed to live in a hard climate, they remained on these icy shores.
These creatures have the instinct to break holes in the ice-field and to
keep them open. To these holes they come for breath; when the birds,
driven away by the cold, have emigrated to the north, these sea mammals
remain sole masters of the polar continent. But the reservoirs were
filling with water, and the Nautilus was slowly descending. At 1,000 feet
deep it stopped; its screw beat the waves, and it advanced straight
towards the north at a speed of fifteen miles an hour. Towards night it
was already floating under the immense body of the iceberg. At three in
the morning I was awakened by a violent shock. I sat up in my bed and
listened in the darkness, when I was thrown into the middle of the room.
The Nautilus, after having struck, had rebounded violently. I groped along
the partition, and by the staircase to the saloon, which was lit by the
luminous ceiling. The furniture was upset. Fortunately the windows were
firmly set, and had held fast. The pictures on the starboard side, from
being no longer vertical, were clinging to the paper, whilst those of the
port side were hanging at least a foot from the wall. The Nautilus was
lying on its starboard side perfectly motionless. I heard footsteps, and a
confusion of voices; but Captain Nemo did not appear. As I was leaving the
saloon, Ned Land and Conseil entered.
"What is the matter?" said I, at once.
"I came to ask you, sir," replied Conseil.
"Confound it!" exclaimed the Canadian, "I know well enough! The
Nautilus has struck; and, judging by the way she lies, I do not think she
will right herself as she did the first time in Torres Straits."
"But," I asked, "has she at least come to the surface of the sea?"
"We do not know," said Conseil.
"It is easy to decide," I answered. I consulted the manometer. To my
great surprise, it showed a depth of more than 180 fathoms. "What does
that mean?" I exclaimed.
"We must ask Captain Nemo," said Conseil.
"But where shall we find him?" said Ned Land.
"Follow me," said I, to my companions.
We left the saloon. There was no one in the library. At the centre
staircase, by the berths of the ship's crew, there was no one. I thought
that Captain Nemo must be in the pilot's cage. It was best to wait. We all
returned to the saloon. For twenty minutes we remained thus, trying to
hear the slightest noise which might be made on board the Nautilus, when
Captain Nemo entered. He seemed not to see us; his face, generally so
impassive, showed signs of uneasiness. He watched the compass silently,
then the manometer; and, going to the planisphere, placed his finger on a
spot representing the southern seas. I would not interrupt him; but, some
minutes later, when he turned towards me, I said, using one of his own
expressions in the Torres Straits:
"An incident, Captain?"
"No, sir; an accident this time."
"Serious?"
"Perhaps."
"Is the danger immediate?"
"No."
"The Nautilus has stranded?"
"Yes."
"And this has happened-how?"
"From a caprice of nature, not from the ignorance of man. Not a mistake
has been made in the working. But we cannot prevent equilibrium from
producing its effects. We may brave human laws, but we cannot resist
natural ones."
Captain Nemo had chosen a strange moment for uttering this
philosophical reflection. On the whole, his answer helped me little.
"May I ask, sir, the cause of this accident?"
"An enormous block of ice, a whole mountain, has turned over," he
replied. "When icebergs are undermined at their base by warmer water or
reiterated shocks their centre of gravity rises, and the whole thing turns
over. This is what has happened; one of these blocks, as it fell, struck
the Nautilus, then, gliding under its hull, raised it with irresistible
force, bringing it into beds which are not so thick, where it is lying on
its side."
"But can we not get the Nautilus off by emptying its reservoirs, that
it might regain its equilibrium?"
"That, sir, is being done at this moment. You can hear the pump
working. Look at the needle of the manometer; it shows that the Nautilus
is rising, but the block of ice is floating with it; and, until some
obstacle stops its ascending motion, our position cannot be altered."
Indeed, the Nautilus still held the same position to starboard;
doubtless it would right itself when the block stopped. But at this moment
who knows if we may not be frightfully crushed between the two glassy
surfaces? I reflected on all the consequences of our position. Captain
Nemo never took his eyes off the manometer. Since the fall of the iceberg,
the Nautilus had risen about a hundred and fifty feet, but it still made
the same angle with the perpendicular. Suddenly a slight movement was felt
in the hold. Evidently it was righting a little. Things hanging in the
saloon were sensibly returning to their normal position. The partitions
were nearing the upright. No one spoke. With beating hearts we watched and
felt the straightening. The boards became horizontal under our feet. Ten
minutes passed.
"At last we have righted!" I exclaimed.
"Yes," said Captain Nemo, going to the door of the saloon.
"But are we floating?" I asked.
"Certainly," he replied; "since the reservoirs are not empty; and, when
empty, the Nautilus must rise to the surface of the sea."
We were in open sea; but at a distance of about ten yards, on either
side of the Nautilus, rose a dazzling wall of ice. Above and beneath the
same wall. Above, because the lower surface of the iceberg stretched over
us like an immense ceiling. Beneath, because the overturned block, having
slid by degrees, had found a resting-place on the lateral walls, which
kept it in that position. The Nautilus was really imprisoned in a perfect
tunnel of ice more than twenty yards in breadth, filled with quiet water.
It was easy to get out of it by going either forward or backward, and then
make a free passage under the iceberg, some hundreds of yards deeper. The
luminous ceiling had been extinguished, but the saloon was still
resplendent with intense light. It was the powerful reflection from the
glass partition sent violently back to the sheets of the lantern. I cannot
describe the effect of the voltaic rays upon the great blocks so
capriciously cut; upon every angle, every ridge, every facet was thrown a
different light, according to the nature of the veins running through the
ice; a dazzling mine of gems, particularly of sapphires, their blue rays
crossing with the green of the emerald. Here and there were opal shades of
wonderful softness, running through bright spots like diamonds of fire,
the brilliancy of which the eye could not bear. The power of the lantern
seemed increased a hundredfold, like a lamp through the lenticular plates
of a first-class lighthouse.
"How beautiful! how beautiful!" cried Conseil.
"Yes," I said, "it is a wonderful sight. Is it not, Ned?"
"Yes, confound it! Yes," answered Ned Land, "it is superb! I am mad at
being obliged to admit it. No one has ever seen anything like it; but the
sight may cost us dear. And, if I must say all, I think we are seeing here
things which God never intended man to see."
Ned was right, it was too beautiful. Suddenly a cry from Conseil made
me turn.
"What is it?" I asked.
"Shut your eyes, sir! Do not look, sir!" Saying which, Conseil clapped
his hands over his eyes.
"But what is the matter, my boy?"
"I am dazzled, blinded."
My eyes turned involuntarily towards the glass, but I could not stand
the fire which seemed to devour them. I understood what had happened. The
Nautilus had put on full speed. All the quiet lustre of the ice-walls was
at once changed into flashes of lightning. The fire from these myriads of
diamonds was blinding. It required some time to calm our troubled looks.
At last the hands were taken down.
"Faith, I should never have believed it," said Conseil.
It was then five in the morning; and at that moment a shock was felt at
the bows of the Nautilus. I knew that its spur had struck a block of ice.
It must have been a false manoeuvre, for this submarine tunnel, obstructed
by blocks, was not very easy navigation. I thought that Captain Nemo, by
changing his course, would either turn these obstacles or else follow the
windings of the tunnel. In any case, the road before us could not be
entirely blocked. But, contrary to my expectations, the Nautilus took a
decided retrograde motion.
"We are going backwards?" said Conseil.
"Yes," I replied. "This end of the tunnel can have no egress."
"And then?"
"Then," said I, "the working is easy. We must go back again, and go out
at the southern opening. That is all."
In speaking thus, I wished to appear more confident than I really was.
But the retrograde motion of the Nautilus was increasing; and, reversing
the screw, it carried us at great speed.
"It will be a hindrance," said Ned.
"What does it matter, some hours more or less, provided we get out at
last?"
"Yes," repeated Ned Land, "provided we do get out at last!"
For a short time I walked from the saloon to the library. My companions
were silent. I soon threw myself on an ottoman, and took a book, which my
eyes overran mechanically. A quarter of an hour after, Conseil,
approaching me, said, "Is what you are reading very interesting, sir?"
"Very interesting!" I replied.
"I should think so, sir. It is your own book you are reading."
"My book?"
And indeed I was holding in my hand the work on the Great Submarine
Depths. I did not even dream of it. I closed the book and returned to my
walk. Ned and Conseil rose to go.
"Stay here, my friends," said I, detaining them. "Let us remain
together until we are out of this block."
"As you please, sir," Conseil replied.
Some hours passed. I often looked at the instruments hanging from the
partition. The manometer showed that the Nautilus kept at a constant depth
of more than three hundred yards; the compass still pointed to south; the
log indicated a speed of twenty miles an hour, which, in such a cramped
space, was very great. But Captain Nemo knew that he could not hasten too
much, and that minutes were worth ages to us. At twenty-five minutes past
eight a second shock took place, this time from behind. I turned pale. My
companions were close by my side. I seized Conseil's hand. Our looks
expressed our feelings better than words. At this moment the Captain
entered the saloon. I went up to him.
"Our course is barred southward?" I asked.
"Yes, sir. The iceberg has shifted and closed every outlet."
"We are blocked up then?"
"Yes."
Thus around the Nautilus, above and below, was an impenetrable wall of
ice. We were prisoners to the iceberg. I watched the Captain. His
countenance had resumed its habitual imperturbability.
"Gentlemen," he said calmly, "there are two ways of dying in the
circumstances in which we are placed." (This puzzling person had the air
of a mathematical professor lecturing to his pupils.) "The first is to be
crushed; the second is to die of suffocation. I do not speak of the
possibility of dying of hunger, for the supply of provisions in the
Nautilus will certainly last longer than we shall. Let us, then, calculate
our chances."
"As to suffocation, Captain," I replied, "that is not to be feared,
because our reservoirs are full."
"Just so; but they will only yield two days' supply of air. Now, for
thirty-six hours we have been hidden under the water, and already the
heavy atmosphere of the Nautilus requires renewal. In forty-eight hours
our reserve will be exhausted."
"Well, Captain, can we be delivered before forty-eight hours?"
"We will attempt it, at least, by piercing the wall that surrounds us."
"On which side?"
"Sound will tell us. I am going to run the Nautilus aground on the
lower bank, and my men will attack the iceberg on the side that is least
thick."
Captain Nemo went out. Soon I discovered by a hissing noise that the
water was entering the reservoirs. The Nautilus sank slowly, and rested on
the ice at a depth of 350 yards, the depth at which the lower bank was
immersed.
"My friends," I said, "our situation is serious, but I rely on your
courage and energy."
"Sir," replied the Canadian, "I am ready to do anything for the general
safety."
"Good! Ned," and I held out my hand to the Canadian.
"I will add," he continued, "that, being as handy with the pickaxe as
with the harpoon, if I can be useful to the Captain, he can command my
services."
"He will not refuse your help. Come, Ned!"
I led him to the room where the crew of the Nautilus were putting on
their cork-jackets. I told the Captain of Ned's proposal, which he
accepted. The Canadian put on his sea-costume, and was ready as soon as
his companions. When Ned was dressed, I re-entered the drawing-room, where
the panes of glass were open, and, posted near Conseil, I examined the
ambient beds that supported the Nautilus. Some instants after, we saw a
dozen of the crew set foot on the bank of ice, and among them Ned Land,
easily known by his stature. Captain Nemo was with them. Before proceeding
to dig the walls, he took the soundings, to be sure of working in the
right direction. Long sounding lines were sunk in the side walls, but
after fifteen yards they were again stopped by the thick wall. It was
useless to attack it on the ceiling-like surface, since the iceberg itself
measured more than 400 yards in height. Captain Nemo then sounded the
lower surface. There ten yards of wall separated us from the water, so
great was the thickness of the ice-field. It was necessary, therefore, to
cut from it a piece equal in extent to the waterline of the Nautilus.
There were about 6,000 cubic yards to detach, so as to dig a hole by which
we could descend to the ice-field. The work had begun immediately and
carried on with indefatigable energy. Instead of digging round the
Nautilus which would have involved greater difficulty, Captain Nemo had an
immense trench made at eight yards from the port-quarter. Then the men set
to work simultaneously with their screws on several points of its
circumference. Presently the pickaxe attacked this compact matter
vigorously, and large blocks were detached from the mass. By a curious
effect of specific gravity, these blocks, lighter than water, fled, so to
speak, to the vault of the tunnel, that increased in thickness at the top
in proportion as it diminished at the base. But that mattered little, so
long as the lower part grew thinner. After two hours' hard work, Ned Land
came in exhausted. He and his comrades were replaced by new workers, whom
Conseil and I joined. The second lieutenant of the Nautilus superintended
us. The water seemed singularly cold, but I soon got warm handling the
pickaxe. My movements were free enough, although they were made under a
pressure of thirty atmospheres. When I re-entered, after working two
hours, to take some food and rest, I found a perceptible difference
between the pure fluid with which the Rouquayrol engine supplied me and
the atmosphere of the Nautilus, already charged with carbonic acid. The
air had not been renewed for forty-eight hours, and its vivifying
qualities were considerably enfeebled. However, after a lapse of twelve
hours, we had only raised a block of ice one yard thick, on the marked
surface, which was about 600 cubic yards! Reckoning that it took twelve
hours to accomplish this much it would take five nights and four days to
bring this enterprise to a satisfactory conclusion. Five nights and four
days! And we have only air enough for two days in the reservoirs! "Without
taking into account," said Ned, "that, even if we get out of this infernal
prison, we shall also be imprisoned under the iceberg, shut out from all
possible communication with the atmosphere." True enough! Who could then
foresee the minimum of time necessary for our deliverance? We might be
suffocated before the Nautilus could regain the surface of the waves? Was
it destined to perish in this ice-tomb, with all those it enclosed? The
situation was terrible. But everyone had looked the danger in the face,
and each was determined to do his duty to the last.
As I expected, during the night a new block a yard square was carried
away, and still further sank the immense hollow. But in the morning when,
dressed in my cork-jacket, I traversed the slushy mass at a temperature of
six or seven degrees below zero, I remarked that the side walls were
gradually closing in. The beds of water farthest from the trench, that
were not warmed by the men's work, showed a tendency to solidification. In
presence of this new and imminent danger, what would become of our chances
of safety, and how hinder the solidification of this liquid medium, that
would burst the partitions of the Nautilus like glass?
I did not tell my companions of this new danger. What was the good of
damping the energy they displayed in the painful work of escape? But when
I went on board again, I told Captain Nemo of this grave complication.
"I know it," he said, in that calm tone which could counteract the most
terrible apprehensions. "It is one danger more; but I see no way of
escaping it; the only chance of safety is to go quicker than
solidification. We must be beforehand with it, that is all."
On this day for several hours I used my pickaxe vigorously. The work
kept me up. Besides, to work was to quit the Nautilus, and breathe
directly the pure air drawn from the reservoirs, and supplied by our
apparatus, and to quit the impoverished and vitiated atmosphere. Towards
evening the trench was dug one yard deeper. When I returned on board, I
was nearly suffocated by the carbonic acid with which the air was
filled-ah! if we had only the chemical means to drive away this
deleterious gas. We had plenty of oxygen; all this water contained a
considerable quantity, and by dissolving it with our powerful piles, it
would restore the vivifying fluid. I had thought well over it; but of what
good was that, since the carbonic acid produced by our respiration had
invaded every part of the vessel? To absorb it, it was necessary to fill
some jars with caustic potash, and to shake them incessantly. Now this
substance was wanting on board, and nothing could replace it. On that
evening, Captain Nemo ought to open the taps of his reservoirs, and let
some pure air into the interior of the Nautilus; without this precaution
we could not get rid of the sense of suffocation. The next day, March
26th, I resumed my miner's work in beginning the fifth yard. The side
walls and the lower surface of the iceberg thickened visibly. It was
evident that they would meet before the Nautilus was able to disengage
itself. Despair seized me for an instant; my pickaxe nearly fell from my
hands. What was the good of digging if I must be suffocated, crushed by
the water that was turning into stone?-a punishment that the ferocity of
the savages even would not have invented! Just then Captain Nemo passed
near me. I touched his hand and showed him the walls of our prison. The
wall to port had advanced to at least four yards from the hull of the
Nautilus. The Captain understood me, and signed me to follow him. We went
on board. I took off my cork-jacket and accompanied him into the
drawing-room.
"M. Aronnax, we must attempt some desperate means, or we shall be
sealed up in this solidified water as in cement."
"Yes; but what is to be done?"
"Ah! if my Nautilus were strong enough to bear this pressure without
being crushed!"
"Well?" I asked, not catching the Captain's idea.
"Do you not understand," he replied, "that this congelation of water
will help us? Do you not see that by its solidification, it would burst
through this field of ice that imprisons us, as, when it freezes, it
bursts the hardest stones? Do you not perceive that it would be an agent
of safety instead of destruction?"
"Yes, Captain, perhaps. But, whatever resistance to crushing the
Nautilus possesses, it could not support this terrible pressure, and would
be flattened like an iron plate."
"I know it, sir. Therefore we must not reckon on the aid of nature, but
on our own exertions. We must stop this solidification. Not only will the
side walls be pressed together; but there is not ten feet of water before
or behind the Nautilus. The congelation gains on us on all sides."
"How long will the air in the reservoirs last for us to breathe on
board?"
The Captain looked in my face. "After to-morrow they will be empty!"
A cold sweat came over me. However, ought I to have been astonished at
the answer? On March 22, the Nautilus was in the open polar seas. We were
at 26O. For five days we had lived on the reserve on board. And what was
left of the respirable air must be kept for the workers. Even now, as I
write, my recollection is still so vivid that an involuntary terror seizes
me and my lungs seem to be without air. Meanwhile, Captain Nemo reflected
silently, and evidently an idea had struck him; but he seemed to reject
it. At last, these words escaped his lips:
"Boiling water!" he muttered.
"Boiling water?" I cried.
"Yes, sir. We are enclosed in a space that is relatively confined.
Would not jets of boiling water, constantly injected by the pumps, raise
the temperature in this part and stay the congelation?"
"Let us try it," I said resolutely.
"Let us try it, Professor."
The thermometer then stood at 7O outside. Captain Nemo took me to the
galleys, where the vast distillatory machines stood that furnished the
drinkable water by evaporation. They filled these with water, and all the
electric heat from the piles was thrown through the worms bathed in the
liquid. In a few minutes this water reached 100O. It was directed towards
the pumps, while fresh water replaced it in proportion. The heat developed
by the troughs was such that cold water, drawn up from the sea after only
having gone through the machines, came boiling into the body of the pump.
The injection was begun, and three hours after the thermometer marked 6O
below zero outside. One degree was gained. Two hours later the thermometer
only marked 4O.
"We shall succeed," I said to the Captain, after having anxiously
watched the result of the operation.
"I think," he answered, "that we shall not be crushed. We have no more
suffocation to fear."
During the night the temperature of the water rose to 1O below zero.
The injections could not carry it to a higher point. But, as the
congelation of the sea-water produces at least 2O, I was at least
reassured against the dangers of solidification.
The next day, March 27th, six yards of ice had been cleared, twelve
feet only remaining to be cleared away. There was yet forty-eight hours'
work. The air could not be renewed in the interior of the Nautilus. And
this day would make it worse. An intolerable weight oppressed me. Towards
three o'clock in the evening this feeling rose to a violent degree. Yawns
dislocated my jaws. My lungs panted as they inhaled this burning fluid,
which became rarefied more and more. A moral torpor took hold of me. I was
powerless, almost unconscious. My brave Conseil, though exhibiting the
same symptoms and suffering in the same manner, never left me. He took my
hand and encouraged me, and I heard him murmur, "Oh! if I could only not
breathe, so as to leave more air for my master!"
Tears came into my eyes on hearing him speak thus. If our situation to
all was intolerable in the interior, with what haste and gladness would we
put on our cork-jackets to work in our turn! Pickaxes sounded on the
frozen ice-beds. Our arms ached, the skin was torn off our hands. But what
were these fatigues, what did the wounds matter? Vital air came to the
lungs! We breathed! we breathed!
All this time no one prolonged his voluntary task beyond the prescribed
time. His task accomplished, each one handed in turn to his panting
companions the apparatus that supplied him with life. Captain Nemo set the
example, and submitted first to this severe discipline. When the time
came, he gave up his apparatus to another and returned to the vitiated air
on board, calm, unflinching, unmurmuring.
On that day the ordinary work was accomplished with unusual vigour.
Only two yards remained to be raised from the surface. Two yards only
separated us from the open sea. But the reservoirs were nearly emptied of
air. The little that remained ought to be kept for the workers; not a
particle for the Nautilus. When I went back on board, I was half
suffocated. What a night! I know not how to describe it. The next day my
breathing was oppressed. Dizziness accompanied the pain in my head and
made me like a drunken man. My companions showed the same symptoms. Some
of the crew had rattling in the throat.
On that day, the sixth of our imprisonment, Captain Nemo, finding the
pickaxes work too slowly, resolved to crush the ice-bed that still
separated us from the liquid sheet. This man's coolness and energy never
forsook him. He subdued his physical pains by moral force.
By his orders the vessel was lightened, that is to say, raised from the
ice-bed by a change of specific gravity. When it floated they towed it so
as to bring it above the immense trench made on the level of the
water-line. Then, filling his reservoirs of water, he descended and shut
himself up in the hole.
Just then all the crew came on board, and the double door of
communication was shut. The Nautilus then rested on the bed of ice, which
was not one yard thick, and which the sounding leads had perforated in a
thousand places. The taps of the reservoirs were then opened, and a
hundred cubic yards of water was let in, increasing the weight of the
Nautilus to 1,800 tons. We waited, we listened, forgetting our sufferings
in hope. Our safety depended on this last chance. Notwithstanding the
buzzing in my head, I soon heard the humming sound under the hull of the
Nautilus. The ice cracked with a singular noise, like tearing paper, and
the Nautilus sank.
"We are off!" murmured Conseil in my ear.
I could not answer him. I seized his hand, and pressed it convulsively.
All at once, carried away by its frightful overcharge, the Nautilus sank
like a bullet under the waters, that is to say, it fell as if it was in a
vacuum. Then all the electric force was put on the pumps, that soon began
to let the water out of the reservoirs. After some minutes, our fall was
stopped. Soon, too, the manometer indicated an ascending movement. The
screw, going at full speed, made the iron hull tremble to its very bolts
and drew us towards the north. But if this floating under the iceberg is
to last another day before we reach the open sea, I shall be dead first.
Half stretched upon a divan in the library, I was suffocating. My face
was purple, my lips blue, my faculties suspended. I neither saw nor heard.
All notion of time had gone from my mind. My muscles could not contract. I
do not know how many hours passed thus, but I was conscious of the agony
that was coming over me. I felt as if I was going to die. Suddenly I came
to. Some breaths of air penetrated my lungs. Had we risen to the surface
of the waves? Were we free of the iceberg? No! Ned and Conseil, my two
brave friends, were sacrificing themselves to save me. Some particles of
air still remained at the bottom of one apparatus. Instead of using it,
they had kept it for me, and, while they were being suffocated, they gave
me life, drop by drop. I wanted to push back the thing; they held my
hands, and for some moments I breathed freely. I looked at the clock; it
was eleven in the morning. It ought to be the 28th of March. The Nautilus
went at a frightful pace, forty miles an hour. It literally tore through
the water. Where was Captain Nemo? Had he succumbed? Were his companions
dead with him? At the moment the manometer indicated that we were not more
than twenty feet from the surface. A mere plate of ice separated us from
the atmosphere. Could we not break it? Perhaps. In any case the Nautilus
was going to attempt it. I felt that it was in an oblique position,
lowering the stern, and raising the bows. The introduction of water had
been the means of disturbing its equilibrium. Then, impelled by its
powerful screw, it attacked the ice-field from beneath like a formidable
battering-ram. It broke it by backing and then rushing forward against the
field, which gradually gave way; and at last, dashing suddenly against it,
shot forwards on the ice-field, that crushed beneath its weight. The panel
was opened-one might say torn off-and the pure air came in in abundance to
all parts of the Nautilus.
Chapter XVII. FROM CAPE HORN TO THE AMAZON
How I got on to the platform, I have no idea; perhaps the Canadian had
carried me there. But I breathed, I inhaled the vivifying sea-air. My two
companions were getting drunk with the fresh particles. The other unhappy
men had been so long without food, that they could not with impunity
indulge in the simplest aliments that were given them. We, on the
contrary, had no end to restrain ourselves; we could draw this air freely
into our lungs, and it was the breeze, the breeze alone, that filled us
with this keen enjoyment.
"Ah!" said Conseil, "how delightful this oxygen is! Master need not
fear to breathe it. There is enough for everybody."
Ned Land did not speak, but he opened his jaws wide enough to frighten
a shark. Our strength soon returned, and, when I looked round me, I saw we
were alone on the platform. The foreign seamen in the Nautilus were
contented with the air that circulated in the interior; none of them had
come to drink in the open air.
The first words I spoke were words of gratitude and thankfulness to my
two companions. Ned and Conseil had prolonged my life during the last
hours of this long agony. All my gratitude could not repay such devotion.
"My friends," said I, "we are bound one to the other for ever, and I am
under infinite obligations to you."
"Which I shall take advantage of," exclaimed the Canadian.
"What do you mean?" said Conseil.
"I mean that I shall take you with me when I leave this infernal
Nautilus."
"Well," said Conseil, "after all this, are we going right?"
"Yes," I replied, "for we are going the way of the sun, and here the
sun is in the north."
"No doubt," said Ned Land; "but it remains to be seen whether he will
bring the ship into the Pacific or the Atlantic Ocean, that is, into
frequented or deserted seas."
I could not answer that question, and I feared that Captain Nemo would
rather take us to the vast ocean that touches the coasts of Asia and
America at the same time. He would thus complete the tour round the
submarine world, and return to those waters in which the Nautilus could
sail freely. We ought, before long, to settle this important point. The
Nautilus went at a rapid pace. The polar circle was soon passed, and the
course shaped for Cape Horn. We were off the American point, March 31st,
at seven o'clock in the evening. Then all our past sufferings were
forgotten. The remembrance of that imprisonment in the ice was effaced
from our minds. We only thought of the future. Captain Nemo did not appear
again either in the drawing-room or on the platform. The point shown each
day on the planisphere, and, marked by the lieutenant, showed me the exact
direction of the Nautilus. Now, on that evening, it was evident, to, my
great satisfaction, that we were going back to the North by the Atlantic.
The next day, April 1st, when the Nautilus ascended to the surface some
minutes before noon, we sighted land to the west. It was Terra del Fuego,
which the first navigators named thus from seeing the quantity of smoke
that rose from the natives' huts. The coast seemed low to me, but in the
distance rose high mountains. I even thought I had a glimpse of Mount
Sarmiento, that rises 2,070 yards above the level of the sea, with a very
pointed summit, which, according as it is misty or clear, is a sign of
fine or of wet weather. At this moment the peak was clearly defined
against the sky. The Nautilus, diving again under the water, approached
the coast, which was only some few miles off. From the glass windows in
the drawing-room, I saw long seaweeds and gigantic fuci and varech, of
which the open polar sea contains so many specimens, with their sharp
polished filaments; they measured about 300 yards in length- real cables,
thicker than one's thumb; and, having great tenacity, they are often used
as ropes for vessels. Another weed known as velp, with leaves four feet
long, buried in the coral concretions, hung at the bottom. It served as
nest and food for myriads of crustacea and molluscs, crabs, and
cuttlefish. There seals and otters had splendid repasts, eating the flesh
of fish with sea-vegetables, according to the English fashion. Over this
fertile and luxuriant ground the Nautilus passed with great rapidity.
Towards evening it approached the Falkland group, the rough summits of
which I recognised the following day. The depth of the sea was moderate.
On the shores our nets brought in beautiful specimens of sea weed, and
particularly a certain fucus, the roots of which were filled with the best
mussels in the world. Geese and ducks fell by dozens on the platform, and
soon took their places in the pantry on board.
When the last heights of the Falklands had disappeared from the
horizon, the Nautilus sank to between twenty and twenty-five yards, and
followed the American coast. Captain Nemo did not show himself. Until the
3rd of April we did not quit the shores of Patagonia, sometimes under the
ocean, sometimes at the surface. The Nautilus passed beyond the large
estuary formed by the Uraguay. Its direction was northwards, and followed
the long windings of the coast of South America. We had then made 1,600
miles since our embarkation in the seas of Japan. About eleven o'clock in
the morning the Tropic of Capricorn was crossed on the thirty-seventh
meridian, and we passed Cape Frio standing out to sea. Captain Nemo, to
Ned Land's great displeasure, did not like the neighbourhood of the
inhabited coasts of Brazil, for we went at a giddy speed. Not a fish, not
a bird of the swiftest kind could follow us, and the natural curiosities
of these seas escaped all observation.
This speed was kept up for several days, and in the evening of the 9th
of April we sighted the most westerly point of South America that forms
Cape San Roque. But then the Nautilus swerved again, and sought the lowest
depth of a submarine valley which is between this Cape and Sierra Leone on
the African coast. This valley bifurcates to the parallel of the Antilles,
and terminates at the mouth by the enormous depression of 9,000 yards. In
this place, the geological basin of the ocean forms, as far as the Lesser
Antilles, a cliff to three and a half miles perpendicular in height, and,
at the parallel of the Cape Verde Islands, an other wall not less
considerable, that encloses thus all the sunk continent of the Atlantic.
The bottom of this immense valley is dotted with some mountains, that give
to these submarine places a picturesque aspect. I speak, moreover, from
the manuscript charts that were in the library of the Nautilus-charts
evidently due to Captain Nemo's hand, and made after his personal
observations. For two days the desert and deep waters were visited by
means of the inclined planes. The Nautilus was furnished with long
diagonal broadsides which carried it to all elevations. But on the 11th of
April it rose suddenly, and land appeared at the mouth of the Amazon
River, a vast estuary, the embouchure of which is so considerable that it
freshens the sea-water for the distance of several leagues. {8 paragraphs
are deleted from this edition}
Chapter XVIII. THE POULPS
For several days the Nautilus kept off from the American coast.
Evidently it did not wish to risk the tides of the Gulf of Mexico or of
the sea of the Antilles. April 16th, we sighted Martinique and Guadaloupe
from a distance of about thirty miles. I saw their tall peaks for an
instant. The Canadian, who counted on carrying out his projects in the
Gulf, by either landing or hailing one of the numerous boats that coast
from one island to another, was quite disheartened. Flight would have been
quite practicable, if Ned Land had been able to take possession of the
boat without the Captain's knowledge. But in the open sea it could not be
thought of. The Canadian, Conseil, and I had a long conversation on this
subject. For six months we had been prisoners on board the Nautilus. We
had travelled 17,000 leagues; and, as Ned Land said, there was no reason
why it should come to an end. We could hope nothing from the Captain of
the Nautilus, but only from ourselves. Besides, for some time past he had
become graver, more retired, less sociable. He seemed to shun me. I met
him rarely. Formerly he was pleased to explain the submarine marvels to
me; now he left me to my studies, and came no more to the saloon. What
change had come over him? For what cause? For my part, I did not wish to
bury with me my curious and novel studies. I had now the power to write
the true book of the sea; and this book, sooner or later, I wished to see
daylight. The land nearest us was the archipelago of the Bahamas. There
rose high submarine cliffs covered with large weeds. It was about eleven
o'clock when Ned Land drew my attention to a formidable pricking, like the
sting of an ant, which was produced by means of large seaweeds.
"Well," I said, "these are proper caverns for poulps, and I should not
be astonished to see some of these monsters."
"What!" said Conseil; "cuttlefish, real cuttlefish of the cephalopod
class?"
"No," I said, "poulps of huge dimensions."
"I will never believe that such animals exist," said Ned.
"Well," said Conseil, with the most serious air in the world, "I
remember perfectly to have seen a large vessel drawn under the waves by an
octopus's arm."
"You saw that?" said the Canadian.
"Yes, Ned."
"With your own eyes?"
"With my own eyes."
"Where, pray, might that be?"
"At St. Malo," answered Conseil.
"In the port?" said Ned, ironically.
"No; in a church," replied Conseil.
"In a church!" cried the Canadian.
"Yes; friend Ned. In a picture representing the poulp in question."
"Good!" said Ned Land, bursting out laughing.
"He is quite right," I said. "I have heard of this picture; but the
subject represented is taken from a legend, and you know what to think of
legends in the matter of natural history. Besides, when it is a question
of monsters, the imagination is apt to run wild. Not only is it supposed
that these poulps can draw down vessels, but a certain Olaus Magnus speaks
of an octopus a mile long that is more like an island than an animal. It
is also said that the Bishop of Nidros was building an altar on an immense
rock. Mass finished, the rock began to walk, and returned to the sea. The
rock was a poulp. Another Bishop, Pontoppidan, speaks also of a poulp on
which a regiment of cavalry could manoeuvre. Lastly, the ancient
naturalists speak of monsters whose mouths were like gulfs, and which were
too large to pass through the Straits of Gibraltar."
"But how much is true of these stories?" asked Conseil.
"Nothing, my friends; at least of that which passes the limit of truth
to get to fable or legend. Nevertheless, there must be some ground for the
imagination of the story-tellers. One cannot deny that poulps and
cuttlefish exist of a large species, inferior, however, to the cetaceans.
Aristotle has stated the dimensions of a cuttlefish as five cubits, or
nine feet two inches. Our fishermen frequently see some that are more than
four feet long. Some skeletons of poulps are preserved in the museums of
Trieste and Montpelier, that measure two yards in length. Besides,
according to the calculations of some naturalists, one of these animals
only six feet long would have tentacles twenty-seven feet long. That would
suffice to make a formidable monster."
"Do they fish for them in these days?" asked Ned.
"If they do not fish for them, sailors see them at least. One of my
friends, Captain Paul Bos of Havre, has often affirmed that he met one of
these monsters of colossal dimensions in the Indian seas. But the most
astonishing fact, and which does not permit of the denial of the existence
of these gigantic animals, happened some years ago, in 1861."
"What is the fact?" asked Ned Land.
"This is it. In 1861, to the north-east of Teneriffe, very nearly in
the same latitude we are in now, the crew of the despatch-boat Alector
perceived a monstrous cuttlefish swimming in the waters. Captain Bouguer
went near to the animal, and attacked it with harpoon and guns, without
much success, for balls and harpoons glided over the soft flesh. After
several fruitless attempts the crew tried to pass a slip-knot round the
body of the mollusc. The noose slipped as far as the tail fins and there
stopped. They tried then to haul it on board, but its weight was so
considerable that the tightness of the cord separated the tail from the
body, and, deprived of this ornament, he disappeared under the water."
"Indeed! is that a fact?"
"An indisputable fact, my good Ned. They proposed to name this poulp
`Bouguer's cuttlefish.'"
"What length was it?" asked the Canadian.
"Did it not measure about six yards?" said Conseil, who, posted at the
window, was examining again the irregular windings of the cliff.
"Precisely," I replied.
"Its head," rejoined Conseil, "was it not crowned with eight tentacles,
that beat the water like a nest of serpents?"
"Precisely."
"Had not its eyes, placed at the back of its head, considerable
development?"
"Yes, Conseil."
"And was not its mouth like a parrot's beak?"
"Exactly, Conseil."
"Very well! no offence to master," he replied, quietly; "if this is not
Bouguer's cuttlefish, it is, at least, one of its brothers."
I looked at Conseil. Ned Land hurried to the window.
"What a horrible beast!" he cried.
I looked in my turn, and could not repress a gesture of disgust. Before
my eyes was a horrible monster worthy to figure in the legends of the
marvellous. It was an immense cuttlefish, being eight yards long. It swam
crossways in the direction of the Nautilus with great speed, watching us
with its enormous staring green eyes. Its eight arms, or rather feet,
fixed to its head, that have given the name of cephalopod to these
animals, were twice as long as its body, and were twisted like the furies'
hair. One could see the 250 air holes on the inner side of the tentacles.
The monster's mouth, a horned beak like a parrot's, opened and shut
vertically. Its tongue, a horned substance, furnished with several rows of
pointed teeth, came out quivering from this veritable pair of shears. What
a freak of nature, a bird's beak on a mollusc! Its spindle-like body
formed a fleshy mass that might weigh 4,000 to 5,000 lb.; the, varying
colour changing with great rapidity, according to the irritation of the
animal, passed successively from livid grey to reddish brown. What
irritated this mollusc? No doubt the presence of the Nautilus, more
formidable than itself, and on which its suckers or its jaws had no hold.
Yet, what monsters these poulps are! what vitality the Creator has given
them! what vigour in their movements! and they possess three hearts!
Chance had brought us in presence of this cuttlefish, and I did not wish
to lose the opportunity of carefully studying this specimen of
cephalopods. I overcame the horror that inspired me, and, taking a pencil,
began to draw it.
"Perhaps this is the same which the Alector saw," said Conseil.
"No," replied the Canadian; "for this is whole, and the other had lost
its tail."
"That is no reason," I replied. "The arms and tails of these animals
are re-formed by renewal; and in seven years the tail of Bouguer's
cuttlefish has no doubt had time to grow."
By this time other poulps appeared at the port light. I counted seven.
They formed a procession after the Nautilus, and I heard their beaks
gnashing against the iron hull. I continued my work. These monsters kept
in the water with such precision that they seemed immovable. Suddenly the
Nautilus stopped. A shock made it tremble in every plate.
"Have we struck anything?" I asked.
"In any case," replied the Canadian, "we shall be free, for we are
floating."
The Nautilus was floating, no doubt, but it did not move. A minute
passed. Captain Nemo, followed by his lieutenant, entered the
drawing-room. I had not seen him for some time. He seemed dull. Without
noticing or speaking to us, he went to the panel, looked at the poulps,
and said something to his lieutenant. The latter went out. Soon the panels
were shut. The ceiling was lighted. I went towards the Captain.
"A curious collection of poulps?" I said.
"Yes, indeed, Mr. Naturalist," he replied; "and we are going to fight
them, man to beast."
I looked at him. I thought I had not heard aright.
"Man to beast?" I repeated.
"Yes, sir. The screw is stopped. I think that the horny jaws of one of
the cuttlefish is entangled in the blades. That is what prevents our
moving."
"What are you going to do?"
"Rise to the surface, and slaughter this vermin."
"A difficult enterprise."
"Yes, indeed. The electric bullets are powerless against the soft
flesh, where they do not find resistance enough to go off. But we shall
attack them with the hatchet."
"And the harpoon, sir," said the Canadian, "if you do not refuse my
help."
"I will accept it, Master Land."
"We will follow you," I said, and, following Captain Nemo, we went
towards the central staircase.
There, about ten men with boarding-hatchets were ready for the attack.
Conseil and I took two hatchets; Ned Land seized a harpoon. The Nautilus
had then risen to the surface. One of the sailors, posted on the top
ladderstep, unscrewed the bolts of the panels. But hardly were the screws
loosed, when the panel rose with great violence, evidently drawn by the
suckers of a poulp's arm. Immediately one of these arms slid like a
serpent down the opening and twenty others were above. With one blow of
the axe, Captain Nemo cut this formidable tentacle, that slid wriggling
down the ladder. Just as we were pressing one on the other to reach the
platform, two other arms, lashing the air, came down on the seaman placed
before Captain Nemo, and lifted him up with irresistible power. Captain
Nemo uttered a cry, and rushed out. We hurried after him.
What a scene! The unhappy man, seized by the tentacle and fixed to the
suckers, was balanced in the air at the caprice of this enormous trunk. He
rattled in his throat, he was stifled, he cried, "Help! help!" These
words, spoken in French, startled me! I had a fellow-countryman on board,
perhaps several! That heart-rending cry! I shall hear it all my life. The
unfortunate man was lost. Who could rescue him from that powerful
pressure? However, Captain Nemo had rushed to the poulp, and with one blow
of the axe had cut through one arm. His lieutenant struggled furiously
against other monsters that crept on the flanks of the Nautilus. The crew
fought with their axes. The Canadian, Conseil, and I buried our weapons in
the fleshy masses; a strong smell of musk penetrated the atmosphere. It
was horrible!
For one instant, I thought the unhappy man, entangled with the poulp,
would be torn from its powerful suction. Seven of the eight arms had been
cut off. One only wriggled in the air, brandishing the victim like a
feather. But just as Captain Nemo and his lieutenant threw themselves on
it, the animal ejected a stream of black liquid. We were blinded with it.
When the cloud dispersed, the cuttlefish had disappeared, and my
unfortunate countryman with it. Ten or twelve poulps now invaded the
platform and sides of the Nautilus. We rolled pell-mell into the midst of
this nest of serpents, that wriggled on the platform in the waves of blood
and ink. It seemed as though these slimy tentacles sprang up like the
hydra's heads. Ned Land's harpoon, at each stroke, was plunged into the
staring eyes of the cuttle fish. But my bold companion was suddenly
overturned by the tentacles of a monster he had not been able to avoid.
Ah! how my heart beat with emotion and horror! The formidable beak of a
cuttlefish was open over Ned Land. The unhappy man would be cut in two. I
rushed to his succour. But Captain Nemo was before me; his axe disappeared
between the two enormous jaws, and, miraculously saved, the Canadian,
rising, plunged his harpoon deep into the triple heart of the poulp.
"I owed myself this revenge!" said the Captain to the Canadian.
Ned bowed without replying. The combat had lasted a quarter of an hour.
The monsters, vanquished and mutilated, left us at last, and disappeared
under the waves. Captain Nemo, covered with blood, nearly exhausted, gazed
upon the sea that had swallowed up one of his companions, and great tears
gathered in his eyes.
Chapter XIX. THE GULF STREAM
This terrible scene of the 20th of April none of us can ever forget. I
have written it under the influence of violent emotion. Since then I have
revised the recital; I have read it to Conseil and to the Canadian. They
found it exact as to facts, but insufficient as to effect. To paint such
pictures, one must have the pen of the most illustrious of our poets, the
author of The Toilers of the Deep.
I have said that Captain Nemo wept while watching the waves; his grief
was great. It was the second companion he had lost since our arrival on
board, and what a death! That friend, crushed, stifled, bruised by the
dreadful arms of a poulp, pounded by his iron jaws, would not rest with
his comrades in the peaceful coral cemetery! In the midst of the struggle,
it was the despairing cry uttered by the unfortunate man that had torn my
heart. The poor Frenchman, forgetting his conventional language, had taken
to his own mother tongue, to utter a last appeal! Amongst the crew of the
Nautilus, associated with the body and soul of the Captain, recoiling like
him from all contact with men, I had a fellow-countryman. Did he alone
represent France in this mysterious association, evidently composed of
individuals of divers nationalities? It was one of these insoluble
problems that rose up unceasingly before my mind!
Captain Nemo entered his room, and I saw him no more for some time. But
that he was sad and irresolute I could see by the vessel, of which he was
the soul, and which received all his impressions. The Nautilus did not
keep on in its settled course; it floated about like a corpse at the will
of the waves. It went at random. He could not tear himself away from the
scene of the last struggle, from this sea that had devoured one of his
men. Ten days passed thus. It was not till the 1st of May that the
Nautilus resumed its northerly course, after having sighted the Bahamas at
the mouth of the Bahama Canal. We were then following the current from the
largest river to the sea, that has its banks, its fish, and its proper
temperatures. I mean the Gulf Stream. It is really a river, that flows
freely to the middle of the Atlantic, and whose waters do not mix with the
ocean waters. It is a salt river, salter than the surrounding sea. Its
mean depth is 1,500 fathoms, its mean breadth ten miles. In certain places
the current flows with the speed of two miles and a half an hour. The body
of its waters is more considerable than that of all the rivers in the
globe. It was on this ocean river that the Nautilus then sailed.
I must add that, during the night, the phosphorescent waters of the
Gulf Stream rivalled the electric power of our watch-light, especially in
the stormy weather that threatened us so frequently. May 8th, we were
still crossing Cape Hatteras, at the height of the North Caroline. The
width of the Gulf Stream there is seventy-five miles, and its depth 210
yards. The Nautilus still went at random; all supervision seemed
abandoned. I thought that, under these circumstances, escape would be
possible. Indeed, the inhabited shores offered anywhere an easy refuge.
The sea was incessantly ploughed by the steamers that ply between New York
or Boston and the Gulf of Mexico, and overrun day and night by the little
schooners coasting about the several parts of the American coast. We could
hope to be picked up. It was a favourable opportunity, notwithstanding the
thirty miles that separated the Nautilus from the coasts of the Union. One
unfortunate circumstance thwarted the Canadian's plans. The weather was
very bad. We were nearing those shores where tempests are so frequent,
that country of waterspouts and cyclones actually engendered by the
current of the Gulf Stream. To tempt the sea in a frail boat was certain
destruction. Ned Land owned this himself. He fretted, seized with
nostalgia that flight only could cure.
"Master," he said that day to me, "this must come to an end. I must
make a clean breast of it. This Nemo is leaving land and going up to the
north. But I declare to you that I have had enough of the South Pole, and
I will not follow him to the North."
"What is to be done, Ned, since flight is impracticable just now?"
"We must speak to the Captain," said he; "you said nothing when we were
in your native seas. I will speak, now we are in mine. When I think that
before long the Nautilus will be by Nova Scotia, and that there near New
foundland is a large bay, and into that bay the St. Lawrence empties
itself, and that the St. Lawrence is my river, the river by Quebec, my
native town-when I think of this, I feel furious, it makes my hair stand
on end. Sir, I would rather throw myself into the sea! I will not stay
here! I am stifled!"
The Canadian was evidently losing all patience. His vigorous nature
could not stand this prolonged imprisonment. His face altered daily; his
temper became more surly. I knew what he must suffer, for I was seized
with home-sickness myself. Nearly seven months had passed without our
having had any news from land; Captain Nemo's isolation, his altered
spirits, especially since the fight with the poulps, his taciturnity, all
made me view things in a different light.
"Well, sir?" said Ned, seeing I did not reply.
"Well, Ned, do you wish me to ask Captain Nemo his intentions
concerning us?"
"Yes, sir."
"Although he has already made them known?"
"Yes; I wish it settled finally. Speak for me, in my name only, if you
like."
"But I so seldom meet him. He avoids me."
"That is all the more reason for you to go to see him."
I went to my room. From thence I meant to go to Captain Nemo's. It
would not do to let this opportunity of meeting him slip. I knocked at the
door. No answer. I knocked again, then turned the handle. The door opened,
I went in. The Captain was there. Bending over his work-table, he had not
heard me. Resolved not to go without having spoken, I approached him. He
raised his head quickly, frowned, and said roughly, "You here! What do you
want?"
"To speak to you, Captain."
"But I am busy, sir; I am working. I leave you at liberty to shut
yourself up; cannot I be allowed the same?"
This reception was not encouraging; but I was determined to hear and
answer everything.
"Sir," I said coldly, "I have to speak to you on a matter that admits
of no delay."
"What is that, sir?" he replied, ironically. "Have you discovered
something that has escaped me, or has the sea delivered up any new
secrets?"
We were at cross-purposes. But, before I could reply, he showed me an
open manuscript on his table, and said, in a more serious tone, "Here, M.
Aronnax, is a manuscript written in several languages. It contains the sum
of my studies of the sea; and, if it please God, it shall not perish with
me. This manuscript, signed with my name, complete with the history of my
life, will be shut up in a little floating case. The last survivor of all
of us on board the Nautilus will throw this case into the sea, and it will
go whither it is borne by the waves."
This man's name! his history written by himself! His mystery would then
be revealed some day.
"Captain," I said, "I can but approve of the idea that makes you act
thus. The result of your studies must not be lost. But the means you
employ seem to me to be primitive. Who knows where the winds will carry
this case, and in whose hands it will fall? Could you not use some other
means? Could not you, or one of yours-"
"Never, sir!" he said, hastily interrupting me.
"But I and my companions are ready to keep this manuscript in store;
and, if you will put us at liberty-"
"At liberty?" said the Captain, rising.
"Yes, sir; that is the subject on which I wish to question you. For
seven months we have been here on board, and I ask you to-day, in the name
of my companions and in my own, if your intention is to keep us here
always?"
"M. Aronnax, I will answer you to-day as I did seven months ago:
Whoever enters the Nautilus, must never quit it."
"You impose actual slavery upon us!"
"Give it what name you please."
"But everywhere the slave has the right to regain his liberty."
"Who denies you this right? Have I ever tried to chain you with an
oath?"
He looked at me with his arms crossed.
"Sir," I said, "to return a second time to this subject will be neither
to your nor to my taste; but, as we have entered upon it, let us go
through with it. I repeat, it is not only myself whom it concerns. Study
is to me a relief, a diversion, a passion that could make me forget
everything. Like you, I am willing to live obscure, in the frail hope of
bequeathing one day, to future time, the result of my labours. But it is
otherwise with Ned Land. Every man, worthy of the name, deserves some
consideration. Have you thought that love of liberty, hatred of slavery,
can give rise to schemes of revenge in a nature like the Canadian's; that
he could think, attempt, and try-"
I was silenced; Captain Nemo rose.
"Whatever Ned Land thinks of, attempts, or tries, what does it matter
to me? I did not seek him! It is not for my pleasure that I keep him on
board! As for you, M. Aronnax, you are one of those who can understand
everything, even silence. I have nothing more to say to you. Let this
first time you have come to treat of this subject be the last, for a
second time I will not listen to you."
I retired. Our situation was critical. I related my conversation to my
two companions.
"We know now," said Ned, "that we can expect nothing from this man. The
Nautilus is nearing Long Island. We will escape, whatever the weather may
be."
But the sky became more and more threatening. Symptoms of a hurricane
became manifest. The atmosphere was becoming white and misty. On the
horizon fine streaks of cirrhous clouds were succeeded by masses of
cumuli. Other low clouds passed swiftly by. The swollen sea rose in huge
billows. The birds disappeared with the exception of the petrels, those
friends of the storm. The barometer fell sensibly, and indicated an
extreme extension of the vapours. The mixture of the storm glass was
decomposed under the influence of the electricity that pervaded the
atmosphere. The tempest burst on the 18th of May, just as the Nautilus was
floating off Long Island, some miles from the port of New York. I can
describe this strife of the elements! for, instead of fleeing to the
depths of the sea, Captain Nemo, by an unaccountable caprice, would brave
it at the surface. The wind blew from the south-west at first. Captain
Nemo, during the squalls, had taken his place on the platform. He had made
himself fast, to prevent being washed overboard by the monstrous waves. I
had hoisted myself up, and made myself fast also, dividing my admiration
between the tempest and this extraordinary man who was coping with it. The
raging sea was swept by huge cloud-drifts, which were actually saturated
with the waves. The Nautilus, sometimes lying on its side, sometimes
standing up like a mast, rolled and pitched terribly. About five o'clock a
torrent of rain fell, that lulled neither sea nor wind. The hurri cane
blew nearly forty leagues an hour. It is under these conditions that it
overturns houses, breaks iron gates, displaces twenty-four pounders.
However, the Nautilus, in the midst of the tempest, confirmed the words of
a clever engineer, "There is no well-constructed hull that cannot defy the
sea." This was not a resisting rock; it was a steel spindle, obedient and
movable, without rigging or masts, that braved its fury with impunity.
However, I watched these raging waves attentively. They measured fifteen
feet in height, and 150 to 175 yards long, and their speed of propagation
was thirty feet per second. Their bulk and power increased with the depth
of the water. Such waves as these, at the Hebrides, have displaced a mass
weighing 8,400 lb. They are they which, in the tempest of December 23rd,
1864, after destroying the town of Yeddo, in Japan, broke the same day on
the shores of America. The intensity of the tempest increased with the
night. The barometer, as in 1860 at Reunion during a cyclone, fell
seven-tenths at the close of day. I saw a large vessel pass the horizon
struggling painfully. She was trying to lie to under half steam, to keep
up above the waves. It was probably one of the steamers of the line from
New York to Liverpool, or Havre. It soon disappeared in the gloom. At ten
o'clock in the evening the sky was on fire. The atmosphere was streaked
with vivid lightning. I could not bear the brightness of it; while the
captain, looking at it, seemed to envy the spirit of the tempest. A
terrible noise filled the air, a complex noise, made up of the howls of
the crushed waves, the roaring of the wind, and the claps of thunder. The
wind veered suddenly to all points of the horizon; and the cyclone, rising
in the east, returned after passing by the north, west, and south, in the
inverse course pursued by the circular storm of the southern hemisphere.
Ah, that Gulf Stream! It deserves its name of the King of Tempests. It is
that which causes those formidable cyclones, by the difference of
temperature between its air and its currents. A shower of fire had
succeeded the rain. The drops of water were changed to sharp spikes. One
would have thought that Captain Nemo was courting a death worthy of
himself, a death by lightning. As the Nautilus, pitching dreadfully,
raised its steel spur in the air, it seemed to act as a conductor, and I
saw long sparks burst from it. Crushed and without strength I crawled to
the panel, opened it, and descended to the saloon. The storm was then at
its height. It was impossible to stand upright in the interior of the
Nautilus. Captain Nemo came down about twelve. I heard the reservoirs
filling by degrees, and the Nautilus sank slowly beneath the waves.
Through the open windows in the saloon I saw large fish terrified, passing
like phantoms in the water. Some were struck before my eyes. The Nautilus
was still descending. I thought that at about eight fathoms deep we should
find a calm. But no! the upper beds were too violently agitated for that.
We had to seek repose at more than twenty-five fathoms in the bowels of
the deep. But there, what quiet, what silence, what peace! Who could have
told that such a hurricane had been let loose on the surface of that
ocean?
Chapter XX. FROM LATITUDE 47 24' TO LONGITUDE 17 28'
In consequence of the storm, we had been thrown eastward once more. All
hope of escape on the shores of New York or St. Lawrence had faded away;
and poor Ned, in despair, had isolated himself like Captain Nemo. Conseil
and I, however, never left each other. I said that the Nautilus had gone
aside to the east. I should have said (to be more exact) the north-east.
For some days, it wandered first on the surface, and then beneath it, amid
those fogs so dreaded by sailors. What accidents are due to these thick
fogs! What shocks upon these reefs when the wind drowns the breaking of
the waves! What collisions between vessels, in spite of their warning
lights, whistles, and alarm bells! And the bottoms of these seas look like
a field of battle, where still lie all the conquered of the ocean; some
old and already encrusted, others fresh and reflecting from their iron
bands and copper plates the brilliancy of our lantern.
On the 15th of May we were at the extreme south of the Bank of
Newfoundland. This bank consists of alluvia, or large heaps of organic
matter, brought either from the Equator by the Gulf Stream, or from the
North Pole by the counter-current of cold water which skirts the American
coast. There also are heaped up those erratic blocks which are carried
along by the broken ice; and close by, a vast charnel-house of molluscs,
which perish here by millions. The depth of the sea is not great at
Newfoundland-not more than some hundreds of fathoms; but towards the south
is a depression of 1,500 fathoms. There the Gulf Stream widens. It loses
some of its speed and some of its temperature, but it becomes a sea.
It was on the 17th of May, about 500 miles from Heart's Content, at a
depth of more than 1,400 fathoms, that I saw the electric cable lying on
the bottom. Conseil, to whom I had not mentioned it, thought at first that
it was a gigantic sea-serpent. But I undeceived the worthy fellow, and by
way of consolation related several particulars in the laying of this
cable. The first one was laid in the years 1857 and 1858; but, after
transmitting about 400 telegrams, would not act any longer. In 1863 the
engineers constructed an other one, measuring 2,000 miles in length, and
weighing 4,500 tons, which was embarked on the Great Eastern. This attempt
also failed.
On the 25th of May the Nautilus, being at a depth of more than 1,918
fathoms, was on the precise spot where the rupture occurred which ruined
the enterprise. It was within 638 miles of the coast of Ireland; and at
half-past two in the afternoon they discovered that communication with
Europe had ceased. The electricians on board resolved to cut the cable
before fishing it up, and at eleven o'clock at night they had recovered
the damaged part. They made another point and spliced it, and it was once
more submerged. But some days after it broke again, and in the depths of
the ocean could not be recaptured. The Americans, however, were not
discouraged. Cyrus Field, the bold promoter of the enterprise, as he had
sunk all his own fortune, set a new subscription on foot, which was at
once answered, and another cable was constructed on better principles. The
bundles of conducting wires were each enveloped in gutta-percha, and
protected by a wadding of hemp, contained in a metallic covering. The
Great Eastern sailed on the 13th of July, 1866. The operation worked well.
But one incident occurred. Several times in unrolling the cable they
observed that nails had recently been forced into it, evidently with the
motive of destroying it. Captain Anderson, the officers, and engineers
consulted together, and had it posted up that, if the offender was
surprised on board, he would be thrown without further trial into the sea.
From that time the criminal attempt was never repeated.
On the 23rd of July the Great Eastern was not more than 500 miles from
Newfoundland, when they telegraphed from Ireland the news of the armistice
concluded between Prussia and Austria after Sadowa. On the 27th, in the
midst of heavy fogs, they reached the port of Heart's Content. The
enterprise was successfully terminated; and for its first despatch, young
America addressed old Europe in these words of wisdom, so rarely
understood: "Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, goodwill
towards men."
I did not expect to find the electric cable in its primitive state,
such as it was on leaving the manufactory. The long serpent, covered with
the remains of shells, bristling with foraminiferae, was encrusted with a
strong coating which served as a protection against all boring molluscs.
It lay quietly sheltered from the motions of the sea, and under a
favourable pressure for the transmission of the electric spark which
passes from Europe to America in .32 of a second. Doubtless this cable
will last for a great length of time, for they find that the gutta-percha
covering is improved by the sea-water. Besides, on this level, so well
chosen, the cable is never so deeply submerged as to cause it to break.
The Nautilus followed it to the lowest depth, which was more than 2,212
fathoms, and there it lay without any anchorage; and then we reached the
spot where the accident had taken place in 1863. The bottom of the ocean
then formed a valley about 100 miles broad, in which Mont Blanc might have
been placed without its summit appearing above the waves. This valley is
closed at the east by a perpendicular wall more than 2,000 yards high. We
arrived there on the 28th of May, and the Nautilus was then not more than
120 miles from Ireland.
Was Captain Nemo going to land on the British Isles? No. To my great
surprise he made for the south, once more coming back towards European
seas. In rounding the Emerald Isle, for one instant I caught sight of Cape
Clear, and the light which guides the thousands of vessels leaving Glasgow
or Liverpool. An important question then arose in my mind. Did the
Nautilus dare entangle itself in the Manche? Ned Land, who had re-appeared
since we had been nearing land, did not cease to question me. How could I
answer? Captain Nemo reminded invisible. After having shown the Canadian a
glimpse of American shores, was he going to show me the coast of France?
But the Nautilus was still going southward. On the 30th of May, it
passed in sight of Land's End, between the extreme point of England and
the Scilly Isles, which were left to starboard. If we wished to enter the
Manche, he must go straight to the east. He did not do so.
During the whole of the 31st of May, the Nautilus described a series of
circles on the water, which greatly interested me. It seemed to be seeking
a spot it had some trouble in finding. At noon, Captain Nemo himself came
to work the ship's log. He spoke no word to me, but seemed gloomier than
ever. What could sadden him thus? Was it his proxim ity to European
shores? Had he some recollections of his abandoned country? If not, what
did he feel? Remorse or regret? For a long while this thought haunted my
mind, and I had a kind of presentiment that before long chance would
betray the captain's secrets.
The next day, the 1st of June, the Nautilus continued the same process.
It was evidently seeking some particular spot in the ocean. Captain Nemo
took the sun's altitude as he had done the day before. The sea was
beautiful, the sky clear. About eight miles to the east, a large steam
vessel could be discerned on the horizon. No flag fluttered from its mast,
and I could not discover its nationality. Some minutes before the sun
passed the meridian, Captain Nemo took his sextant, and watched with great
attention. The perfect rest of the water greatly helped the operation. The
Nautilus was motionless; it neither rolled nor pitched.
I was on the platform when the altitude was taken, and the Captain
pronounced these words: "It is here."
He turned and went below. Had he seen the vessel which was changing its
course and seemed to be nearing us? I could not tell. I returned to the
saloon. The panels closed, I heard the hissing of the water in the
reservoirs. The Nautilus began to sink, following a vertical line, for its
screw communicated no motion to it. Some minutes later it stopped at a
depth of more than 420 fathoms, resting on the ground. The luminous
ceiling was darkened, then the panels were opened, and through the glass I
saw the sea brilliantly illuminated by the rays of our lantern for at
least half a mile round us.
I looked to the port side, and saw nothing but an immensity of quiet
waters. But to starboard, on the bottom appeared a large protuberance,
which at once attracted my attention. One would have thought it a ruin
buried under a coating of white shells, much resembling a covering of
snow. Upon examining the mass attentively, I could recognise the
ever-thickening form of a vessel bare of its masts, which must have sunk.
It certainly belonged to past times. This wreck, to be thus encrusted with
the lime of the water, must already be able to count many years passed at
the bottom of the ocean.
What was this vessel? Why did the Nautilus visit its tomb? Could it
have been aught but a shipwreck which had drawn it under the water? I knew
not what to think, when near me in a slow voice I heard Captain Nemo say:
"At one time this ship was called the Marseillais. It carried
seventy-four guns, and was launched in 1762. In 1778, the 13th of August,
commanded by La Poype-Ver trieux, it fought boldly against the Preston. In
1779, on the 4th of July, it was at the taking of Grenada, with the
squadron of Admiral Estaing. In 1781, on the 5th of September, it took
part in the battle of Comte de Grasse, in Chesapeake Bay. In 1794, the
French Republic changed its name. On the 16th of April, in the same year,
it joined the squadron of Villaret Joyeuse, at Brest, being entrusted with
the escort of a cargo of corn coming from America, under the command of
Admiral Van Stebel. On the 11th and 12th Prairal of the second year, this
squadron fell in with an English vessel. Sir, to-day is the 13th Prairal,
the first of June, 1868. It is now seventy-four years ago, day for day on
this very spot, in latitude 47O 24', longitude 17O 28', that this vessel,
after fighting heroically, losing its three masts, with the water in its
hold, and the third of its crew disabled, preferred sinking with its 356
sailors to surrendering; and, nailing its colours to the poop, disappeared
under the waves to the cry of `Long live the Republic!'"
"The Avenger!" I exclaimed.
"Yes, sir, the Avenger! A good name!" muttered Captain Nemo, crossing
his arms.
The way of describing this unlooked-for scene, the history of the
patriot ship, told at first so coldly, and the emotion with which this
strange man pronounced the last words, the name of the Avenger, the
significance of which could not escape me, all impressed itself deeply on
my mind. My eyes did not leave the Captain, who, with his hand stretched
out to sea, was watching with a glowing eye the glorious wreck. Perhaps I
was never to know who he was, from whence he came, or where he was going
to, but I saw the man move, and apart from the savant. It was no common
misanthropy which had shut Captain Nemo and his companions within the
Nautilus, but a hatred, either monstrous or sublime, which time could
never weaken. Did this hatred still seek for vengeance? The future would
soon teach me that. But the Nautilus was rising slowly to the surface of
the sea, and the form of the Avenger disappeared by degrees from my sight.
Soon a slight rolling told me that we were in the open air. At that moment
a dull boom was heard. I looked at the Captain. He did not move.
"Captain?" said I.
He did not answer. I left him and mounted the platform. Conseil and the
Canadian were already there.
"Where did that sound come from?" I asked.
"It was a gunshot," replied Ned Land.
I looked in the direction of the vessel I had already seen. It was
nearing the Nautilus, and we could see that it was putting on steam. It
was within six miles of us.
"What is that ship, Ned?"
"By its rigging, and the height of its lower masts," said the Canadian,
"I bet she is a ship-of-war. May it reach us; and, if necessary, sink this
cursed Nautilus."
"Friend Ned," replied Conseil, "what harm can it do to the Nautilus?
Can it attack it beneath the waves? Can its cannonade us at the bottom of
the sea?"
"Tell me, Ned," said I, "can you recognise what country she belongs to?"
The Canadian knitted his eyebrows, dropped his eyelids, and screwed up
the corners of his eyes, and for a few moments fixed a piercing look upon
the vessel.
"No, sir," he replied; "I cannot tell what nation she belongs to, for
she shows no colours. But I can declare she is a man-of-war, for a long
pennant flutters from her main mast."
For a quarter of an hour we watched the ship which was steaming towards
us. I could not, however, believe that she could see the Nautilus from
that distance; and still less that she could know what this submarine
engine was. Soon the Canadian informed me that she was a large, armoured,
two-decker ram. A thick black smoke was pouring from her two funnels. Her
closely-furled sails were stopped to her yards. She hoisted no flag at her
mizzen-peak. The distance prevented us from distinguishing the colours of
her pennant, which floated like a thin ribbon. She advanced rapidly. If
Captain Nemo allowed her to approach, there was a chance of salvation for
us.
"Sir," said Ned Land, "if that vessel passes within a mile of us I
shall throw myself into the sea, and I should advise you to do the same."
I did not reply to the Canadian's suggestion, but continued watching
the ship. Whether English, French, American, or Russian, she would be sure
to take us in if we could only reach her. Presently a white smoke burst
from the fore part of the vessel; some seconds after, the water, agitated
by the fall of a heavy body, splashed the stern of the Nautilus, and
shortly afterwards a loud explosion struck my ear.
"What! they are firing at us!" I exclaimed.
"So please you, sir," said Ned, "they have recognised the unicorn, and
they are firing at us."
"But," I exclaimed, "surely they can see that there are men in the
case?"
"It is, perhaps, because of that," replied Ned Land, looking at me.
A whole flood of light burst upon my mind. Doubtless they knew now how
to believe the stories of the pretended monster. No doubt, on board the
Abraham Lincoln, when the Canadian struck it with the harpoon, Commander
Farragut had recognised in the supposed narwhal a submarine vessel, more
dangerous than a supernatural cetacean. Yes, it must have been so; and on
every sea they were now seeking this engine of destruction. Terrible
indeed! if, as we supposed, Captain Nemo employed the Nautilus in works of
vengeance. On the night when we were imprisoned in that cell, in the midst
of the Indian Ocean, had he not attacked some vessel? The man buried in
the coral cemetery, had he not been a victim to the shock caused by the
Nautilus? Yes, I repeat it, it must be so. One part of the mysterious
existence of Captain Nemo had been unveiled; and, if his identity had not
been recognised, at least, the nations united against him were no longer
hunting a chimerical creature, but a man who had vowed a deadly hatred
against them. All the formidable past rose before me. Instead of meeting
friends on board the approaching ship, we could only expect pitiless
enemies. But the shot rattled about us. Some of them struck the sea and
ricochetted, losing themselves in the distance. But none touched the
Nautilus. The vessel was not more than three miles from us. In spite of
the serious cannonade, Captain Nemo did not appear on the platform; but,
if one of the conical projectiles had struck the shell of the Nautilus, it
would have been fatal. The Canadian then said, "Sir, we must do all we can
to get out of this dilemma. Let us signal them. They will then, perhaps,
understand that we are honest folks."
Ned Land took his handkerchief to wave in the air; but he had scarcely
displayed it, when he was struck down by an iron hand, and fell, in spite
of his great strength, upon the deck.
"Fool!" exclaimed the Captain, "do you wish to be pierced by the spur
of the Nautilus before it is hurled at this vessel?"
Captain Nemo was terrible to hear; he was still more terrible to see.
His face was deadly pale, with a spasm at his heart. For an instant it
must have ceased to beat. His pupils were fearfully contracted. He did not
speak, he roared, as, with his body thrown forward, he wrung the
Canadian's shoulders. Then, leaving him, and turning to the ship of war,
whose shot was still raining around him, he exclaimed, with a powerful
voice, "Ah, ship of an accursed nation, you know who I am! I do not want
your colours to know you by! Look! and I will show you mine!"
And on the fore part of the platform Captain Nemo unfurled a black
flag, similar to the one he had placed at the South Pole. At that moment a
shot struck the shell of the Nautilus obliquely, without piercing it; and,
rebounding near the Captain, was lost in the sea. He shrugged his
shoulders; and, addressing me, said shortly, "Go down, you and your
companions, go down!"
"Sir," I cried, "are you going to attack this vessel?"
"Sir, I am going to sink it."
"You will not do that?"
"I shall do it," he replied coldly. "And I advise you not to judge me,
sir. Fate has shown you what you ought not to have seen. The attack has
begun; go down."
"What is this vessel?"
"You do not know? Very well! so much the better! Its nationality to
you, at least, will be a secret. Go down!"
We could but obey. About fifteen of the sailors surrounded the Captain,
looking with implacable hatred at the vessel nearing them. One could feel
that the same desire of vengeance animated every soul. I went down at the
moment another projectile struck the Nautilus, and I heard the Captain
exclaim:
"Strike, mad vessel! Shower your useless shot! And then, you will not
escape the spur of the Nautilus. But it is not here that you shall perish!
I would not have your ruins mingle with those of the Avenger!"
I reached my room. The Captain and his second had remained on the
platform. The screw was set in motion, and the Nautilus, moving with
speed, was soon beyond the reach of the ship's guns. But the pursuit
continued, and Captain Nemo contented himself with keeping his distance.
About four in the afternoon, being no longer able to contain my
impatience, I went to the central staircase. The panel was open, and I
ventured on to the platform. The Captain was still walking up and down
with an agitated step. He was looking at the ship, which was five or six
miles to leeward.
He was going round it like a wild beast, and, drawing it eastward, he
allowed them to pursue. But he did not attack. Perhaps he still hesitated?
I wished to mediate once more. But I had scarcely spoken, when Captain
Nemo imposed silence, saying:
"I am the law, and I am the judge! I am the oppressed, and there is the
oppressor! Through him I have lost all that I loved, cherished, and
venerated-country, wife, children, father, and mother. I saw all perish!
All that I hate is there! Say no more!"
I cast a last look at the man-of-war, which was putting on steam, and
rejoined Ned and Conseil.
"We will fly!" I exclaimed.
"Good!" said Ned. "What is this vessel?"
"I do not know; but, whatever it is, it will be sunk before night. In
any case, it is better to perish with it, than be made accomplices in a
retaliation the justice of which we cannot judge."
"That is my opinion too," said Ned Land, coolly. "Let us wait for
night."
Night arrived. Deep silence reigned on board. The compass showed that
the Nautilus had not altered its course. It was on the surface, rolling
slightly. My companions and I resolved to fly when the vessel should be
near enough either to hear us or to see us; for the moon, which would be
full in two or three days, shone brightly. Once on board the ship, if we
could not prevent the blow which threatened it, we could, at least we
would, do all that circumstances would allow. Several times I thought the
Nautilus was preparing for attack; but Captain Nemo contented himself with
allowing his adversary to approach, and then fled once more before it.
Part of the night passed without any incident. We watched the
opportunity for action. We spoke little, for we were too much moved. Ned
Land would have thrown himself into the sea, but I forced him to wait.
According to my idea, the Nautilus would attack the ship at her waterline,
and then it would not only be possible, but easy to fly.
At three in the morning, full of uneasiness, I mounted the platform.
Captain Nemo had not left it. He was standing at the fore part near his
flag, which a slight breeze displayed above his head. He did not take his
eyes from the vessel. The intensity of his look seemed to attract, and
fascinate, and draw it onward more surely than if he had been towing it.
The moon was then passing the meridian. Jupiter was rising in the east.
Amid this peaceful scene of nature, sky and ocean rivalled each other in
tranquillity, the sea offering to the orbs of night the finest mirror they
could ever have in which to reflect their image. As I thought of the deep
calm of these elements, compared with all those passions brooding
imperceptibly within the Nautilus, I shuddered.
The vessel was within two miles of us. It was ever nearing that
phosphorescent light which showed the presence of the Nautilus. I could
see its green and red lights, and its white lantern hanging from the large
foremast. An indistinct vibration quivered through its rigging, showing
that the furnaces were heated to the uttermost. Sheaves of sparks and red
ashes flew from the funnels, shining in the atmosphere like stars.
I remained thus until six in the morning, without Captain Nemo noticing
me. The ship stood about a mile and a half from us, and with the first
dawn of day the firing began afresh. The moment could not be far off when,
the Nautilus attacking its adversary, my companions and myself should for
ever leave this man. I was preparing to go down to remind them, when the
second mounted the platform, accompanied by several sailors. Captain Nemo
either did not or would not see them. Some steps were taken which might be
called the signal for action. They were very simple. The iron balustrade
around the platform was lowered, and the lantern and pilot cages were
pushed within the shell until they were flush with the deck. The long
surface of the steel cigar no longer offered a single point to check its
manoeuvres. I returned to the saloon. The Nautilus still floated; some
streaks of light were filtering through the liquid beds. With the
undulations of the waves the windows were brightened by the red streaks of
the rising sun, and this dreadful day of the 2nd of June had dawned.
At five o'clock, the log showed that the speed of the Nautilus was
slackening, and I knew that it was allowing them to draw nearer. Besides,
the reports were heard more distinctly, and the projectiles, labouring
through the ambient water, were extinguished with a strange hissing noise.
"My friends," said I, "the moment is come. One grasp of the hand, and
may God protect us!"
Ned Land was resolute, Conseil calm, myself so nervous that I knew not
how to contain myself. We all passed into the library; but the moment I
pushed the door opening on to the central staircase, I heard the upper
panel close sharply. The Canadian rushed on to the stairs, but I stopped
him. A well-known hissing noise told me that the water was running into
the reservoirs, and in a few minutes the Nautilus was some yards beneath
the surface of the waves. I understood the manoeuvre. It was too late to
act. The Nautilus did not wish to strike at the impenetrable cuirass, but
below the water-line, where the metallic covering no longer protected it.
We were again imprisoned, unwilling witnesses of the dreadful drama
that was preparing. We had scarcely time to reflect; taking refuge in my
room, we looked at each other without speaking. A deep stupor had taken
hold of my mind: thought seemed to stand still. I was in that painful
state of expectation preceding a dreadful report. I waited, I listened,
every sense was merged in that of hearing! The speed of the Nautilus was
accelerated. It was preparing to rush. The whole ship trembled. Suddenly I
screamed. I felt the shock, but comparatively light. I felt the
penetrating power of the steel spur. I heard rattlings and scrapings. But
the Nautilus, carried along by its propelling power, passed through the
mass of the vessel like a needle through sailcloth!
I could stand it no longer. Mad, out of my mind, I rushed from my room
into the saloon. Captain Nemo was there, mute, gloomy, implacable; he was
looking through the port panel. A large mass cast a shadow on the water;
and, that it might lose nothing of her agony, the Nautilus was going down
into the abyss with her. Ten yards from me I saw the open shell, through
which the water was rushing with the noise of thunder, then the double
line of guns and the netting. The bridge was covered with black, agitated
shadows.
The water was rising. The poor creatures were crowding the ratlines,
clinging to the masts, struggling under the water. It was a human ant-heap
overtaken by the sea. Paralysed, stiffened with anguish, my hair standing
on end, with eyes wide open, panting, without breath, and without voice, I
too was watching! An irresistible attraction glued me to the glass!
Suddenly an explosion took place. The compressed air blew up her decks, as
if the magazines had caught fire. Then the unfortunate vessel sank more
rapidly. Her topmast, laden with victims, now appeared; then her spars,
bending under the weight of men; and, last of all, the top of her
mainmast. Then the dark mass disappeared, and with it the dead crew, drawn
down by the strong eddy.
I turned to Captain Nemo. That terrible avenger, a perfect archangel of
hatred, was still looking. When all was over, he turned to his room,
opened the door, and entered. I followed him with my eyes. On the end wall
beneath his heroes, I saw the portrait of a woman, still young, and two
little children. Captain Nemo looked at them for some moments, stretched
his arms towards them, and, kneeling down, burst into deep sobs.
Chapter XXII. THE LAST WORDS OF CAPTAIN NEMO
The panels had closed on this dreadful vision, but light had not
returned to the saloon: all was silence and darkness within the Nautilus.
At wonderful speed, a hundred feet beneath the water, it was leaving this
desolate spot. Whither was it going? To the north or south? Where was the
man flying to after such dreadful retaliation? I had returned to my room,
where Ned and Conseil had remained silent enough. I felt an insurmountable
horror for Captain Nemo. Whatever he had suffered at the hands of these
men, he had no right to punish thus. He had made me, if not an accomplice,
at least a witness of his vengeance. At eleven the electric light
reappeared. I passed into the saloon. It was deserted. I consulted the
different instruments. The Nautilus was flying northward at the rate of
twenty-five miles an hour, now on the surface, and now thirty feet below
it. On taking the bearings by the chart, I saw that we were passing the
mouth of the Manche, and that our course was hurrying us towards the
northern seas at a frightful speed. That night we had crossed two hundred
leagues of the Atlantic. The shadows fell, and the sea was covered with
darkness until the rising of the moon. I went to my room, but could not
sleep. I was troubled with dreadful nightmare. The horrible scene of
destruction was continually before my eyes. From that day, who could tell
into what part of the North Atlantic basin the Nautilus would take us?
Still with unaccountable speed. Still in the midst of these northern fogs.
Would it touch at Spitzbergen, or on the shores of Nova Zembla? Should we
explore those unknown seas, the White Sea, the Sea of Kara, the Gulf of
Obi, the Archipelago of Liarrov, and the unknown coast of Asia? I could
not say. I could no longer judge of the time that was passing. The clocks
had been stopped on board. It seemed, as in polar countries, that night
and day no longer followed their regular course. I felt myself being drawn
into that strange region where the foundered imagination of Edgar Poe
roamed at will. Like the fabulous Gordon Pym, at every moment I expected
to see "that veiled human figure, of larger proportions than those of any
inhabitant of the earth, thrown across the cataract which defends the
approach to the pole." I estimated (though, perhaps, I may be mistaken)-I
estimated this adventurous course of the Nautilus to have lasted fifteen
or twenty days. And I know not how much longer it might have lasted, had
it not been for the catastrophe which ended this voyage. Of Captain Nemo I
saw nothing whatever now, nor of his second. Not a man of the crew was
visible for an instant. The Nautilus was almost incessantly under water.
When we came to the surface to renew the air, the panels opened and shut
mechanically. There were no more marks on the planisphere. I knew not
where we were. And the Canadian, too, his strength and patience at an end,
appeared no more. Conseil could not draw a word from him; and, fearing
that, in a dreadful fit of madness, he might kill himself, watched him
with constant devotion. One morning (what date it was I could not say) I
had fallen into a heavy sleep towards the early hours, a sleep both
painful and unhealthy, when I suddenly awoke. Ned Land was leaning over
me, saying, in a low voice, "We are going to fly." I sat up.
"When shall we go?" I asked.
"To-night. All inspection on board the Nautilus seems to have ceased.
All appear to be stupefied. You will be ready, sir?"
"Yes; where are we?"
"In sight of land. I took the reckoning this morning in the fog- twenty
miles to the east."
"What country is it?"
"I do not know; but, whatever it is, we will take refuge there."
"Yes, Ned, yes. We will fly to-night, even if the sea should swallow us
up."
"The sea is bad, the wind violent, but twenty miles in that light boat
of the Nautilus does not frighten me. Unknown to the crew, I have been
able to procure food and some bottles of water."
"I will follow you."
"But," continued the Canadian, "if I am surprised, I will defend
myself; I will force them to kill me."
"We will die together, friend Ned."
I had made up my mind to all. The Canadian left me. I reached the
platform, on which I could with difficulty support myself against the
shock of the waves. The sky was threatening; but, as land was in those
thick brown shadows, we must fly. I returned to the saloon, fearing and
yet hoping to see Captain Nemo, wishing and yet not wishing to see him.
What could I have said to him? Could I hide the involuntary horror with
which he inspired me? No. It was better that I should not meet him face to
face; better to forget him. And yet- How long seemed that day, the last
that I should pass in the Nautilus. I remained alone. Ned Land and Conseil
avoided speaking, for fear of betraying themselves. At six I dined, but I
was not hungry; I forced myself to eat in spite of my disgust, that I
might not weaken myself. At half-past six Ned Land came to my room,
saying, "We shall not see each other again before our departure. At ten
the moon will not be risen. We will profit by the darkness. Come to the
boat; Conseil and I will wait for you."
The Canadian went out without giving me time to answer. Wishing to
verify the course of the Nautilus, I went to the saloon. We were running
N.N.E. at frightful speed, and more than fifty yards deep. I cast a last
look on these wonders of nature, on the riches of art heaped up in this
museum, upon the unrivalled collection destined to perish at the bottom of
the sea, with him who had formed it. I wished to fix an indelible
impression of it in my mind. I remained an hour thus, bathed in the light
of that luminous ceiling, and passing in review those treasures shining
under their glasses. Then I returned to my room.
I dressed myself in strong sea clothing. I collected my notes, placing
them carefully about me. My heart beat loudly. I could not check its
pulsations. Certainly my trouble and agitation would have betrayed me to
Captain Nemo's eyes. What was he doing at this moment? I listened at the
door of his room. I heard steps. Captain Nemo was there. He had not gone
to rest. At every moment I expected to see him appear, and ask me why I
wished to fly. I was constantly on the alert. My imagination magnified
everything. The impression became at last so poignant that I asked myself
if it would not be better to go to the Captain's room, see him face to
face, and brave him with look and gesture.
It was the inspiration of a madman; fortunately I resisted the desire,
and stretched myself on my bed to quiet my bodily agitation. My nerves
were somewhat calmer, but in my excited brain I saw over again all my
existence on board the Nautilus; every incident, either happy or
unfortunate, which had happened since my disappearance from the Abraham
Lincoln-the submarine hunt, the Torres Straits, the savages of Papua, the
running ashore, the coral cemetery, the passage of Suez, the Island of
Santorin, the Cretan diver, Vigo Bay, Atlantis, the iceberg, the South
Pole, the imprisonment in the ice, the fight among the poulps, the storm
in the Gulf Stream, the Avenger, and the horrible scene of the vessel sunk
with all her crew. All these events passed before my eyes like scenes in a
drama. Then Captain Nemo seemed to grow enormously, his features to assume
superhuman proportions. He was no longer my equal, but a man of the
waters, the genie of the sea.
It was then half-past nine. I held my head between my hands to keep it
from bursting. I closed my eyes; I would not think any longer. There was
another half-hour to wait, another half-hour of a nightmare, which might
drive me mad.
At that moment I heard the distant strains of the organ, a sad harmony
to an undefinable chant, the wail of a soul longing to break these earthly
bonds. I listened with every sense, scarcely breathing; plunged, like
Captain Nemo, in that musical ecstasy, which was drawing him in spirit to
the end of life.
Then a sudden thought terrified me. Captain Nemo had left his room. He
was in the saloon, which I must cross to fly. There I should meet him for
the last time. He would see me, perhaps speak to me. A gesture of his
might destroy me, a single word chain me on board.
But ten was about to strike. The moment had come for me to leave my
room, and join my companions.
I must not hesitate, even if Captain Nemo himself should rise before
me. I opened my door carefully; and even then, as it turned on its hinges,
it seemed to me to make a dreadful noise. Perhaps it only existed in my
own imagination.
I crept along the dark stairs of the Nautilus, stopping at each step to
check the beating of my heart. I reached the door of the saloon, and
opened it gently. It was plunged in profound darkness. The strains of the
organ sounded faintly. Captain Nemo was there. He did not see me. In the
full light I do not think he would have noticed me, so entirely was he
absorbed in the ecstasy.
I crept along the carpet, avoiding the slightest sound which might
betray my presence. I was at least five minutes reaching the door, at the
opposite side, opening into the library.
I was going to open it, when a sigh from Captain Nemo nailed me to the
spot. I knew that he was rising. I could even see him, for the light from
the library came through to the saloon. He came towards me silently, with
his arms crossed, gliding like a spectre rather than walking. His breast
was swelling with sobs; and I heard him murmur these words (the last which
ever struck my ear):
"Almighty God! enough! enough!"
Was it a confession of remorse which thus escaped from this man's
conscience?
In desperation, I rushed through the library, mounted the central
staircase, and, following the upper flight, reached the boat. I crept
through the opening, which had already admitted my two companions.
"Let us go! let us go!" I exclaimed.
"Directly!" replied the Canadian.
The orifice in the plates of the Nautilus was first closed, and
fastened down by means of a false key, with which Ned Land had provided
himself; the opening in the boat was also closed. The Canadian began to
loosen the bolts which still held us to the submarine boat.
Suddenly a noise was heard. Voices were answering each other loudly.
What was the matter? Had they discovered our flight? I felt Ned Land
slipping a dagger into my hand.
"Yes," I murmured, "we know how to die!"
The Canadian had stopped in his work. But one word many times repeated,
a dreadful word, revealed the cause of the agitation spreading on board
the Nautilus. It was not we the crew were looking after!
"The maelstrom! the maelstrom!" Could a more dreadful word in a more
dreadful situation have sounded in our ears! We were then upon the
dangerous coast of Norway. Was the Nautilus being drawn into this gulf at
the moment our boat was going to leave its sides? We knew that at the tide
the pent-up waters between the islands of Ferroe and Loffoden rush with
irresistible violence, forming a whirlpool from which no vessel ever
escapes. From every point of the horizon enormous waves were meeting,
forming a gulf justly called the "Navel of the Ocean," whose power of
attraction extends to a distance of twelve miles. There, not only vessels,
but whales are sacrificed, as well as white bears from the northern
regions.
It is thither that the Nautilus, voluntarily or involuntarily, had been
run by the Captain.
It was describing a spiral, the circumference of which was lessening by
degrees, and the boat, which was still fastened to its side, was carried
along with giddy speed. I felt that sickly giddiness which arises from
long-continued whirling round.
We were in dread. Our horror was at its height, circulation had
stopped, all nervous influence was annihilated, and we were covered with
cold sweat, like a sweat of agony! And what noise around our frail bark!
What roarings repeated by the echo miles away! What an uproar was that of
the waters broken on the sharp rocks at the bottom, where the hardest
bodies are crushed, and trees worn away, "with all the fur rubbed off,"
according to the Norwegian phrase!
What a situation to be in! We rocked frightfully. The Nautilus defended
itself like a human being. Its steel muscles cracked. Sometimes it seemed
to stand upright, and we with it!
"We must hold on," said Ned, "and look after the bolts. We may still be
saved if we stick to the Nautilus."
He had not finished the words, when we heard a crashing noise, the
bolts gave way, and the boat, torn from its groove, was hurled like a
stone from a sling into the midst of the whirlpool.
My head struck on a piece of iron, and with the violent shock I lost
all consciousness.
Chapter XXIII. CONCLUSION
Thus ends the voyage under the seas. What passed during that night- how
the boat escaped from the eddies of the maelstrom- how Ned Land, Conseil,
and myself ever came out of the gulf, I cannot tell.
But when I returned to consciousness, I was lying in a fisherman's hut,
on the Loffoden Isles. My two companions, safe and sound, were near me
holding my hands. We embraced each other heartily.
At that moment we could not think of returning to France. The means of
communication between the north of Norway and the south are rare. And I am
therefore obliged to wait for the steamboat running monthly from Cape
North.
And, among the worthy people who have so kindly received us, I revise
my record of these adventures once more. Not a fact has been omitted, not
a detail exaggerated. It is a faithful narrative of this incredible
expedition in an element inaccessible to man, but to which Progress will
one day open a road.
Shall I be believed? I do not know. And it matters little, after all.
What I now affirm is, that I have a right to speak of these seas, under
which, in less than ten months, I have crossed 20,000 leagues in that
submarine tour of the world, which has revealed so many wonders.
But what has become of the Nautilus? Did it resist the pressure of the
maelstrom? Does Captain Nemo still live? And does he still follow under
the ocean those frightful retaliations? Or, did he stop after the last
hecatomb?
Will the waves one day carry to him this manuscript containing the
history of his life? Shall I ever know the name of this man? Will the
missing vessel tell us by its nationality that of Captain Nemo?
I hope so. And I also hope that his powerful vessel has conquered the
sea at its most terrible gulf, and that the Nautilus has survived where so
many other vessels have been lost! If it be so-if Captain Nemo still
inhabits the ocean, his adopted country, may hatred be appeased in that
savage heart! May the contemplation of so many wonders extinguish for ever
the spirit of vengeance! May the judge disappear, and the philosopher
continue the peaceful exploration of the sea! If his destiny be strange,
it is also sublime. Have I not understood it myself? Have I not lived ten
months of this unnatural life? And to the question asked by Ecclesiastes
three thousand years ago, "That which is far off and exceeding deep, who
can find it out?" two men alone of all now living have the right to give
an answer -
CAPTAIN NEMO AND MYSELF.