"TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA\n\n\nby\n\nJULES VERNE\n\n\n\n\n\nPART ONE\n\n\n\nCHAPTER I\n\nA SHIFTING REEF\n\nThe year 1866 was signalised by a remarkable incident, a mysterious and\npuzzling phenomenon, which doubtless no one has yet forgotten.  Not to\nmention rumours which agitated the maritime population and excited the\npublic mind, even in the interior of continents, seafaring men were\nparticularly excited.  Merchants, common sailors, captains of vessels,\nskippers, both of Europe and America, naval officers of all countries,\nand the Governments of several States on the two continents, were\ndeeply interested in the matter.\n\nFor some time past vessels had been met by \"an enormous thing,\" a long\nobject, spindle-shaped, occasionally phosphorescent, and infinitely\nlarger and more rapid in its movements than a whale.\n\nThe facts relating to this apparition (entered in various log-books)\nagreed in most respects as to the shape of the object or creature in\nquestion, the untiring rapidity of its movements, its surprising power\nof locomotion, and the peculiar life with which it seemed endowed.  If\nit was a whale, it surpassed in size all those hitherto classified in\nscience.  Taking into consideration the mean of observations made at\ndivers times--rejecting the timid estimate of those who assigned to\nthis object a length of two hundred feet, equally with the exaggerated\nopinions which set it down as a mile in width and three in length--we\nmight fairly conclude that this mysterious being surpassed greatly all\ndimensions admitted by the learned ones of the day, if it existed at\nall.  And that it DID exist was an undeniable fact; and, with that\ntendency which disposes the human mind in favour of the marvellous, we\ncan understand the excitement produced in the entire world by this\nsupernatural apparition.  As to classing it in the list of fables, the\nidea was out of the question.\n\nOn the 20th of July, 1866, the steamer Governor Higginson, of the\nCalcutta and Burnach Steam Navigation Company, had met this moving mass\nfive miles off the east coast of Australia.  Captain Baker thought at\nfirst that he was in the presence of an unknown sandbank; he even\nprepared to determine its exact position when two columns of water,\nprojected by the mysterious object, shot with a hissing noise a hundred\nand fifty feet up into the air.  Now, unless the sandbank had been\nsubmitted to the intermittent eruption of a geyser, the Governor\nHigginson had to do neither more nor less than with an aquatic mammal,\nunknown till then, which threw up from its blow-holes columns of water\nmixed with air and vapour.\n\nSimilar facts were observed on the 23rd of July in the same year, in\nthe Pacific Ocean, by the Columbus, of the West India and Pacific Steam\nNavigation Company.  But this extraordinary creature could transport\nitself from one place to another with surprising velocity; as, in an\ninterval of three days, the Governor Higginson and the Columbus had\nobserved it at two different points of the chart, separated by a\ndistance of more than seven hundred nautical leagues.\n\nFifteen days later, two thousand miles farther off, the Helvetia, of\nthe Compagnie-Nationale, and the Shannon, of the Royal Mail Steamship\nCompany, sailing to windward in that portion of the Atlantic lying\nbetween the United States and Europe, respectively signalled the\nmonster to each other in 42° 15' N. lat. and 60° 35' W. long.\nIn these simultaneous observations they thought themselves justified in\nestimating the minimum length of the mammal at more than three hundred\nand fifty feet, as the Shannon and Helvetia were of smaller dimensions\nthan it, though they measured three hundred feet over all.\n\nNow the largest whales, those which frequent those parts of the sea\nround the Aleutian, Kulammak, and Umgullich islands, have never\nexceeded the length of sixty yards, if they attain that.\n\nIn every place of great resort the monster was the fashion.  They sang\nof it in the cafes, ridiculed it in the papers, and represented it on\nthe stage.  All kinds of stories were circulated regarding it.  There\nappeared in the papers caricatures of every gigantic and imaginary\ncreature, from the white whale, the terrible \"Moby Dick\" of sub-arctic\nregions, to the immense kraken, whose tentacles could entangle a ship\nof five hundred tons and hurry it into the abyss of the ocean.  The\nlegends of ancient times were even revived.\n\nThen burst forth the unending argument between the believers and the\nunbelievers in the societies of the wise and the scientific journals.\n\"The question of the monster\" inflamed all minds.  Editors of\nscientific journals, quarrelling with believers in the supernatural,\nspilled seas of ink during this memorable campaign, some even drawing\nblood; for from the sea-serpent they came to direct personalities.\n\nDuring the first months of the year 1867 the question seemed buried,\nnever to revive, when new facts were brought before the public.  It was\nthen no longer a scientific problem to be solved, but a real danger\nseriously to be avoided.  The question took quite another shape.  The\nmonster became a small island, a rock, a reef, but a reef of indefinite\nand shifting proportions.\n\nOn the 5th of March, 1867, the Moravian, of the Montreal Ocean Company,\nfinding herself during the night in 27° 30' lat. and 72° 15'\nlong., struck on her starboard quarter a rock, marked in no chart for\nthat part of the sea.  Under the combined efforts of the wind and its\nfour hundred horse power, it was going at the rate of thirteen knots.\nHad it not been for the superior strength of the hull of the Moravian,\nshe would have been broken by the shock and gone down with the 237\npassengers she was bringing home from Canada.\n\nThe accident happened about five o'clock in the morning, as the day was\nbreaking.  The officers of the quarter-deck hurried to the after-part\nof the vessel.  They examined the sea with the most careful attention.\nThey saw nothing but a strong eddy about three cables' length distant,\nas if the surface had been violently agitated.  The bearings of the\nplace were taken exactly, and the Moravian continued its route without\napparent damage.  Had it struck on a submerged rock, or on an enormous\nwreck?  They could not tell; but, on examination of the ship's bottom\nwhen undergoing repairs, it was found that part of her keel was broken.\n\nThis fact, so grave in itself, might perhaps have been forgotten like\nmany others if, three weeks after, it had not been re-enacted under\nsimilar circumstances.  But, thanks to the nationality of the victim of\nthe shock, thanks to the reputation of the company to which the vessel\nbelonged, the circumstance became extensively circulated.\n\nThe 13th of April, 1867, the sea being beautiful, the breeze\nfavourable, the Scotia, of the Cunard Company's line, found herself in\n15° 12' long. and 45° 37' lat.  She was going at the speed of\nthirteen knots and a half.\n\nAt seventeen minutes past four in the afternoon, whilst the passengers\nwere assembled at lunch in the great saloon, a slight shock was felt on\nthe hull of the Scotia, on her quarter, a little aft of the port-paddle.\n\nThe Scotia had not struck, but she had been struck, and seemingly by\nsomething rather sharp and penetrating than blunt.  The shock had been\nso slight that no one had been alarmed, had it not been for the shouts\nof the carpenter's watch, who rushed on to the bridge, exclaiming, \"We\nare sinking! we are sinking!\"  At first the passengers were much\nfrightened, but Captain Anderson hastened to reassure them.  The danger\ncould not be imminent.  The Scotia, divided into seven compartments by\nstrong partitions, could brave with impunity any leak.  Captain\nAnderson went down immediately into the hold.  He found that the sea\nwas pouring into the fifth compartment; and the rapidity of the influx\nproved that the force of the water was considerable.  Fortunately this\ncompartment did not hold the boilers, or the fires would have been\nimmediately extinguished.  Captain Anderson ordered the engines to be\nstopped at once, and one of the men went down to ascertain the extent\nof the injury.  Some minutes afterwards they discovered the existence\nof a large hole, two yards in diameter, in the ship's bottom.  Such a\nleak could not be stopped; and the Scotia, her paddles half submerged,\nwas obliged to continue her course.  She was then three hundred miles\nfrom Cape Clear, and, after three days' delay, which caused great\nuneasiness in Liverpool, she entered the basin of the company.\n\nThe engineers visited the Scotia, which was put in dry dock.  They\ncould scarcely believe it possible; at two yards and a half below\nwater-mark was a regular rent, in the form of an isosceles triangle.\nThe broken place in the iron plates was so perfectly defined that it\ncould not have been more neatly done by a punch.  It was clear, then,\nthat the instrument producing the perforation was not of a common stamp\nand, after having been driven with prodigious strength, and piercing an\niron plate 1 3/8 inches thick, had withdrawn itself by a backward\nmotion.\n\nSuch was the last fact, which resulted in exciting once more the\ntorrent of public opinion.  From this moment all unlucky casualties\nwhich could not be otherwise accounted for were put down to the monster.\n\nUpon this imaginary creature rested the responsibility of all these\nshipwrecks, which unfortunately were considerable; for of three\nthousand ships whose loss was annually recorded at Lloyd's, the number\nof sailing and steam-ships supposed to be totally lost, from the\nabsence of all news, amounted to not less than two hundred!\n\nNow, it was the \"monster\" who, justly or unjustly, was accused of their\ndisappearance, and, thanks to it, communication between the different\ncontinents became more and more dangerous.  The public demanded sharply\nthat the seas should at any price be relieved from this formidable\ncetacean.[1]\n\n\n[1] Member of the whale family.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER II\n\nPRO AND CON\n\nAt the period when these events took place, I had just returned from a\nscientific research in the disagreeable territory of Nebraska, in the\nUnited States.  In virtue of my office as Assistant Professor in the\nMuseum of Natural History in Paris, the French Government had attached\nme to that expedition.  After six months in Nebraska, I arrived in New\nYork towards the end of March, laden with a precious collection.  My\ndeparture for France was fixed for the first days in May.  Meanwhile I\nwas occupying myself in classifying my mineralogical, botanical, and\nzoological riches, when the accident happened to the Scotia.\n\nI was perfectly up in the subject which was the question of the day.\nHow could I be otherwise?  I had read and reread all the American and\nEuropean papers without being any nearer a conclusion.  This mystery\npuzzled me.  Under the impossibility of forming an opinion, I jumped\nfrom one extreme to the other.  That there really was something could\nnot be doubted, and the incredulous were invited to put their finger on\nthe wound of the Scotia.\n\nOn my arrival at New York the question was at its height.  The theory\nof the floating island, and the unapproachable sandbank, supported by\nminds little competent to form a judgment, was abandoned.  And, indeed,\nunless this shoal had a machine in its stomach, how could it change its\nposition with such astonishing rapidity?\n\nFrom the same cause, the idea of a floating hull of an enormous wreck\nwas given up.\n\nThere remained, then, only two possible solutions of the question,\nwhich created two distinct parties:  on one side, those who were for a\nmonster of colossal strength; on the other, those who were for a\nsubmarine vessel of enormous motive power.\n\nBut this last theory, plausible as it was, could not stand against\ninquiries made in both worlds.  That a private gentleman should have\nsuch a machine at his command was not likely.  Where, when, and how was\nit built? and how could its construction have been kept secret?\nCertainly a Government might possess such a destructive machine.  And\nin these disastrous times, when the ingenuity of man has multiplied the\npower of weapons of war, it was possible that, without the knowledge of\nothers, a State might try to work such a formidable engine.\n\nBut the idea of a war machine fell before the declaration of\nGovernments.  As public interest was in question, and transatlantic\ncommunications suffered, their veracity could not be doubted.  But how\nadmit that the construction of this submarine boat had escaped the\npublic eye?  For a private gentleman to keep the secret under such\ncircumstances would be very difficult, and for a State whose every act\nis persistently watched by powerful rivals, certainly impossible.\n\nUpon my arrival in New York several persons did me the honour of\nconsulting me on the phenomenon in question.  I had published in France\na work in quarto, in two volumes, entitled Mysteries of the Great\nSubmarine Grounds.  This book, highly approved of in the learned world,\ngained for me a special reputation in this rather obscure branch of\nNatural History.  My advice was asked.  As long as I could deny the\nreality of the fact, I confined myself to a decided negative.  But\nsoon, finding myself driven into a corner, I was obliged to explain\nmyself point by point.  I discussed the question in all its forms,\npolitically and scientifically; and I give here an extract from a\ncarefully-studied article which I published in the number of the 30th\nof April.  It ran as follows:\n\n\"After examining one by one the different theories, rejecting all other\nsuggestions, it becomes necessary to admit the existence of a marine\nanimal of enormous power.\n\n\"The great depths of the ocean are entirely unknown to us.  Soundings\ncannot reach them.  What passes in those remote depths--what beings\nlive, or can live, twelve or fifteen miles beneath the surface of the\nwaters--what is the organisation of these animals, we can scarcely\nconjecture.  However, the solution of the problem submitted to me may\nmodify the form of the dilemma.  Either we do know all the varieties of\nbeings which people our planet, or we do not.  If we do NOT know them\nall--if Nature has still secrets in the deeps for us, nothing is more\nconformable to reason than to admit the existence of fishes, or\ncetaceans of other kinds, or even of new species, of an organisation\nformed to inhabit the strata inaccessible to soundings, and which an\naccident of some sort has brought at long intervals to the upper level\nof the ocean.\n\n\"If, on the contrary, we DO know all living kinds, we must necessarily\nseek for the animal in question amongst those marine beings already\nclassed; and, in that case, I should be disposed to admit the existence\nof a gigantic narwhal.\n\n\"The common narwhal, or unicorn of the sea, often attains a length of\nsixty feet.  Increase its size fivefold or tenfold, give it strength\nproportionate to its size, lengthen its destructive weapons, and you\nobtain the animal required.  It will have the proportions determined by\nthe officers of the Shannon, the instrument required by the perforation\nof the Scotia, and the power necessary to pierce the hull of the\nsteamer.\n\n\"Indeed, the narwhal is armed with a sort of ivory sword, a halberd,\naccording to the expression of certain naturalists.  The principal tusk\nhas the hardness of steel.  Some of these tusks have been found buried\nin the bodies of whales, which the unicorn always attacks with success.\nOthers have been drawn out, not without trouble, from the bottoms of\nships, which they had pierced through and through, as a gimlet pierces\na barrel.  The Museum of the Faculty of Medicine of Paris possesses one\nof these defensive weapons, two yards and a quarter in length, and\nfifteen inches in diameter at the base.\n\n\"Very well! suppose this weapon to be six times stronger and the animal\nten times more powerful; launch it at the rate of twenty miles an hour,\nand you obtain a shock capable of producing the catastrophe required.\nUntil further information, therefore, I shall maintain it to be a\nsea-unicorn of colossal dimensions, armed not with a halberd, but with\na real spur, as the armoured frigates, or the `rams' of war, whose\nmassiveness and motive power it would possess at the same time.  Thus\nmay this puzzling phenomenon be explained, unless there be something\nover and above all that one has ever conjectured, seen, perceived, or\nexperienced; which is just within the bounds of possibility.\"\n\nThese last words were cowardly on my part; but, up to a certain point,\nI wished to shelter my dignity as professor, and not give too much\ncause for laughter to the Americans, who laugh well when they do laugh.\nI reserved for myself a way of escape.  In effect, however, I admitted\nthe existence of the \"monster.\" My article was warmly discussed, which\nprocured it a high reputation.  It rallied round it a certain number of\npartisans.  The solution it proposed gave, at least, full liberty to\nthe imagination.  The human mind delights in grand conceptions of\nsupernatural beings.  And the sea is precisely their best vehicle, the\nonly medium through which these giants (against which terrestrial\nanimals, such as elephants or rhinoceroses, are as nothing) can be\nproduced or developed.\n\nThe industrial and commercial papers treated the question chiefly from\nthis point of view.  The Shipping and Mercantile Gazette, the Lloyd's\nList, the Packet-Boat, and the Maritime and Colonial Review, all papers\ndevoted to insurance companies which threatened to raise their rates of\npremium, were unanimous on this point.  Public opinion had been\npronounced.  The United States were the first in the field; and in New\nYork they made preparations for an expedition destined to pursue this\nnarwhal.  A frigate of great speed, the Abraham Lincoln, was put in\ncommission as soon as possible.  The arsenals were opened to Commander\nFarragut, who hastened the arming of his frigate; but, as it always\nhappens, the moment it was decided to pursue the monster, the monster\ndid not appear.  For two months no one heard it spoken of.  No ship met\nwith it.  It seemed as if this unicorn knew of the plots weaving around\nit.  It had been so much talked of, even through the Atlantic cable,\nthat jesters pretended that this slender fly had stopped a telegram on\nits passage and was making the most of it.\n\nSo when the frigate had been armed for a long campaign, and provided\nwith formidable fishing apparatus, no one could tell what course to\npursue.  Impatience grew apace, when, on the 2nd of July, they learned\nthat a steamer of the line of San Francisco, from California to\nShanghai, had seen the animal three weeks before in the North Pacific\nOcean.  The excitement caused by this news was extreme.  The ship was\nrevictualled and well stocked with coal.\n\nThree hours before the Abraham Lincoln left Brooklyn pier, I received a\nletter worded as follows:\n\nTo M. ARONNAX, Professor in the Museum of Paris, Fifth Avenue Hotel,\nNew York.\n\nSIR,--If you will consent to join the Abraham Lincoln in this\nexpedition, the Government of the United States will with pleasure see\nFrance represented in the enterprise.  Commander Farragut has a cabin\nat your disposal.\n\nVery cordially yours, J.B. HOBSON, Secretary of Marine.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER III\n\nI FORM MY RESOLUTION\n\nThree seconds before the arrival of J. B. Hobson's letter I no more\nthought of pursuing the unicorn than of attempting the passage of the\nNorth Sea.  Three seconds after reading the letter of the honourable\nSecretary of Marine, I felt that my true vocation, the sole end of my\nlife, was to chase this disturbing monster and purge it from the world.\n\nBut I had just returned from a fatiguing journey, weary and longing for\nrepose.  I aspired to nothing more than again seeing my country, my\nfriends, my little lodging by the Jardin des Plantes, my dear and\nprecious collections--but nothing could keep me back!  I forgot\nall--fatigue, friends and collections--and accepted without hesitation\nthe offer of the American Government.\n\n\"Besides,\" thought I, \"all roads lead back to Europe; and the unicorn\nmay be amiable enough to hurry me towards the coast of France.  This\nworthy animal may allow itself to be caught in the seas of Europe (for\nmy particular benefit), and I will not bring back less than half a yard\nof his ivory halberd to the Museum of Natural History.\" But in the\nmeanwhile I must seek this narwhal in the North Pacific Ocean, which,\nto return to France, was taking the road to the antipodes.\n\n\"Conseil,\" I called in an impatient voice.\n\nConseil was my servant, a true, devoted Flemish boy, who had\naccompanied me in all my travels.  I liked him, and he returned the\nliking well.  He was quiet by nature, regular from principle, zealous\nfrom habit, evincing little disturbance at the different surprises of\nlife, very quick with his hands, and apt at any service required of\nhim; and, despite his name, never giving advice--even when asked for it.\n\nConseil had followed me for the last ten years wherever science led.\nNever once did he complain of the length or fatigue of a journey, never\nmake an objection to pack his portmanteau for whatever country it might\nbe, or however far away, whether China or Congo.  Besides all this, he\nhad good health, which defied all sickness, and solid muscles, but no\nnerves; good morals are understood.  This boy was thirty years old, and\nhis age to that of his master as fifteen to twenty.  May I be excused\nfor saying that I was forty years old?\n\nBut Conseil had one fault:  he was ceremonious to a degree, and would\nnever speak to me but in the third person, which was sometimes\nprovoking.\n\n\"Conseil,\" said I again, beginning with feverish hands to make\npreparations for my departure.\n\nCertainly I was sure of this devoted boy.  As a rule, I never asked him\nif it were convenient for him or not to follow me in my travels; but\nthis time the expedition in question might be prolonged, and the\nenterprise might be hazardous in pursuit of an animal capable of\nsinking a frigate as easily as a nutshell.  Here there was matter for\nreflection even to the most impassive man in the world.  What would\nConseil say?\n\n\"Conseil,\" I called a third time.\n\nConseil appeared.\n\n\"Did you call, sir?\" said he, entering.\n\n\"Yes, my boy; make preparations for me and yourself too.  We leave in\ntwo hours.\"\n\n\"As you please, sir,\" replied Conseil, quietly.\n\n\"Not an instant to lose; lock in my trunk all travelling utensils,\ncoats, shirts, and stockings--without counting, as many as you can, and\nmake haste.\"\n\n\"And your collections, sir?\" observed Conseil.\n\n\"They will keep them at the hotel.\"\n\n\"We are not returning to Paris, then?\" said Conseil.\n\n\"Oh! certainly,\" I answered, evasively, \"by making a curve.\"\n\n\"Will the curve please you, sir?\"\n\n\"Oh! it will be nothing; not quite so direct a road, that is all.  We\ntake our passage in the Abraham, Lincoln.\"\n\n\"As you think proper, sir,\" coolly replied Conseil.\n\n\"You see, my friend, it has to do with the monster--the famous narwhal.\nWe are going to purge it from the seas.  A glorious mission, but a\ndangerous one!  We cannot tell where we may go; these animals can be\nvery capricious.  But we will go whether or no; we have got a captain\nwho is pretty wide-awake.\"\n\nOur luggage was transported to the deck of the frigate immediately.  I\nhastened on board and asked for Commander Farragut.  One of the sailors\nconducted me to the poop, where I found myself in the presence of a\ngood-looking officer, who held out his hand to me.\n\n\"Monsieur Pierre Aronnax?\" said he.\n\n\"Himself,\" replied I. \"Commander Farragut?\"\n\n\"You are welcome, Professor; your cabin is ready for you.\"\n\nI bowed, and desired to be conducted to the cabin destined for me.\n\nThe Abraham Lincoln had been well chosen and equipped for her new\ndestination.  She was a frigate of great speed, fitted with\nhigh-pressure engines which admitted a pressure of seven atmospheres.\nUnder this the Abraham Lincoln attained the mean speed of nearly\neighteen knots and a third an hour--a considerable speed, but,\nnevertheless, insufficient to grapple with this gigantic cetacean.\n\nThe interior arrangements of the frigate corresponded to its nautical\nqualities.  I was well satisfied with my cabin, which was in the after\npart, opening upon the gunroom.\n\n\"We shall be well off here,\" said I to Conseil.\n\n\"As well, by your honour's leave, as a hermit-crab in the shell of a\nwhelk,\" said Conseil.\n\nI left Conseil to stow our trunks conveniently away, and remounted the\npoop in order to survey the preparations for departure.\n\nAt that moment Commander Farragut was ordering the last moorings to be\ncast loose which held the Abraham Lincoln to the pier of Brooklyn.  So\nin a quarter of an hour, perhaps less, the frigate would have sailed\nwithout me.  I should have missed this extraordinary, supernatural, and\nincredible expedition, the recital of which may well meet with some\nsuspicion.\n\nBut Commander Farragut would not lose a day nor an hour in scouring the\nseas in which the animal had been sighted.  He sent for the engineer.\n\n\"Is the steam full on?\" asked he.\n\n\"Yes, sir,\" replied the engineer.\n\n\"Go ahead,\" cried Commander Farragut.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER IV\n\nNED LAND\n\nCaptain Farragut was a good seaman, worthy of the frigate he commanded.\nHis vessel and he were one.  He was the soul of it.  On the question of\nthe monster there was no doubt in his mind, and he would not allow the\nexistence of the animal to be disputed on board.  He believed in it, as\ncertain good women believe in the leviathan--by faith, not by reason.\nThe monster did exist, and he had sworn to rid the seas of it.  Either\nCaptain Farragut would kill the narwhal, or the narwhal would kill the\ncaptain.  There was no third course.\n\nThe officers on board shared the opinion of their chief.  They were\never chatting, discussing, and calculating the various chances of a\nmeeting, watching narrowly the vast surface of the ocean.  More than\none took up his quarters voluntarily in the cross-trees, who would have\ncursed such a berth under any other circumstances.  As long as the sun\ndescribed its daily course, the rigging was crowded with sailors, whose\nfeet were burnt to such an extent by the heat of the deck as to render\nit unbearable; still the Abraham Lincoln had not yet breasted the\nsuspected waters of the Pacific.  As to the ship's company, they\ndesired nothing better than to meet the unicorn, to harpoon it, hoist\nit on board, and despatch it.  They watched the sea with eager\nattention.\n\nBesides, Captain Farragut had spoken of a certain sum of two thousand\ndollars, set apart for whoever should first sight the monster, were he\ncabin-boy, common seaman, or officer.\n\nI leave you to judge how eyes were used on board the Abraham Lincoln.\n\nFor my own part I was not behind the others, and, left to no one my\nshare of daily observations.  The frigate might have been called the\nArgus, for a hundred reasons.  Only one amongst us, Conseil, seemed to\nprotest by his indifference against the question which so interested us\nall, and seemed to be out of keeping with the general enthusiasm on\nboard.\n\nI have said that Captain Farragut had carefully provided his ship with\nevery apparatus for catching the gigantic cetacean.  No whaler had ever\nbeen better armed.  We possessed every known engine, from the harpoon\nthrown by the hand to the barbed arrows of the blunderbuss, and the\nexplosive balls of the duck-gun.  On the forecastle lay the perfection\nof a breech-loading gun, very thick at the breech, and very narrow in\nthe bore, the model of which had been in the Exhibition of 1867.  This\nprecious weapon of American origin could throw with ease a conical\nprojectile of nine pounds to a mean distance of ten miles.\n\nThus the Abraham Lincoln wanted for no means of destruction; and, what\nwas better still she had on board Ned Land, the prince of harpooners.\n\nNed Land was a Canadian, with an uncommon quickness of hand, and who\nknew no equal in his dangerous occupation.  Skill, coolness, audacity,\nand cunning he possessed in a superior degree, and it must be a cunning\nwhale to escape the stroke of his harpoon.\n\nNed Land was about forty years of age; he was a tall man (more than six\nfeet high), strongly built, grave and taciturn, occasionally violent,\nand very passionate when contradicted.  His person attracted attention,\nbut above all the boldness of his look, which gave a singular\nexpression to his face.\n\nWho calls himself Canadian calls himself French; and, little\ncommunicative as Ned Land was, I must admit that he took a certain\nliking for me.  My nationality drew him to me, no doubt.  It was an\nopportunity for him to talk, and for me to hear, that old language of\nRabelais, which is still in use in some Canadian provinces.  The\nharpooner's family was originally from Quebec, and was already a tribe\nof hardy fishermen when this town belonged to France.\n\nLittle by little, Ned Land acquired a taste for chatting, and I loved\nto hear the recital of his adventures in the polar seas.  He related\nhis fishing, and his combats, with natural poetry of expression; his\nrecital took the form of an epic poem, and I seemed to be listening to\na Canadian Homer singing the Iliad of the regions of the North.\n\nI am portraying this hardy companion as I really knew him.  We are old\nfriends now, united in that unchangeable friendship which is born and\ncemented amidst extreme dangers.  Ah, brave Ned!  I ask no more than to\nlive a hundred years longer, that I may have more time to dwell the\nlonger on your memory.\n\nNow, what was Ned Land's opinion upon the question of the marine\nmonster?  I must admit that he did not believe in the unicorn, and was\nthe only one on board who did not share that universal conviction.  He\neven avoided the subject, which I one day thought it my duty to press\nupon him.  One magnificent evening, the 30th July (that is to say,\nthree weeks after our departure), the frigate was abreast of Cape\nBlanc, thirty miles to leeward of the coast of Patagonia.  We had\ncrossed the tropic of Capricorn, and the Straits of Magellan opened\nless than seven hundred miles to the south.  Before eight days were\nover the Abraham Lincoln would be ploughing the waters of the Pacific.\n\nSeated on the poop, Ned Land and I were chatting of one thing and\nanother as we looked at this mysterious sea, whose great depths had up\nto this time been inaccessible to the eye of man.  I naturally led up\nthe conversation to the giant unicorn, and examined the various chances\nof success or failure of the expedition.  But, seeing that Ned Land let\nme speak without saying too much himself, I pressed him more closely.\n\n\"Well, Ned,\" said I, \"is it possible that you are not convinced of the\nexistence of this cetacean that we are following?  Have you any\nparticular reason for being so incredulous?\"\n\nThe harpooner looked at me fixedly for some moments before answering,\nstruck his broad forehead with his hand (a habit of his), as if to\ncollect himself, and said at last, \"Perhaps I have, Mr. Aronnax.\"\n\n\"But, Ned, you, a whaler by profession, familiarised with all the great\nmarine mammalia--YOU ought to be the last to doubt under such\ncircumstances!\"\n\n\"That is just what deceives you, Professor,\" replied Ned.  \"As a whaler\nI have followed many a cetacean, harpooned a great number, and killed\nseveral; but, however strong or well-armed they may have been, neither\ntheir tails nor their weapons would have been able even to scratch the\niron plates of a steamer.\"\n\n\"But, Ned, they tell of ships which the teeth of the narwhal have\npierced through and through.\"\n\n\"Wooden ships--that is possible,\" replied the Canadian, \"but I have\nnever seen it done; and, until further proof, I deny that whales,\ncetaceans, or sea-unicorns could ever produce the effect you describe.\"\n\n\"Well, Ned, I repeat it with a conviction resting on the logic of\nfacts.  I believe in the existence of a mammal power fully organised,\nbelonging to the branch of vertebrata, like the whales, the cachalots,\nor the dolphins, and furnished with a horn of defence of great\npenetrating power.\"\n\n\"Hum!\" said the harpooner, shaking his head with the air of a man who\nwould not be convinced.\n\n\"Notice one thing, my worthy Canadian,\" I resumed.  \"If such an animal\nis in existence, if it inhabits the depths of the ocean, if it\nfrequents the strata lying miles below the surface of the water, it\nmust necessarily possess an organisation the strength of which would\ndefy all comparison.\"\n\n\"And why this powerful organisation?\" demanded Ned.\n\n\"Because it requires incalculable strength to keep one's self in these\nstrata and resist their pressure.  Listen to me.  Let us admit that the\npressure of the atmosphere is represented by the weight of a column of\nwater thirty-two feet high.  In reality the column of water would be\nshorter, as we are speaking of sea water, the density of which is\ngreater than that of fresh water.  Very well, when you dive, Ned, as\nmany times 32 feet of water as there are above you, so many times does\nyour body bear a pressure equal to that of the atmosphere, that is to\nsay, 15 lb. for each square inch of its surface.  It follows, then,\nthat at 320 feet this pressure equals that of 10 atmospheres, of 100\natmospheres at 3,200 feet, and of 1,000 atmospheres at 32,000 feet,\nthat is, about 6 miles; which is equivalent to saying that if you could\nattain this depth in the ocean, each square three-eighths of an inch of\nthe surface of your body would bear a pressure of 5,600 lb.  Ah! my\nbrave Ned, do you know how many square inches you carry on the surface\nof your body?\"\n\n\"I have no idea, Mr. Aronnax.\"\n\n\"About 6,500; and as in reality the atmospheric pressure is about 15\nlb.  to the square inch, your 6,500 square inches bear at this moment a\npressure of 97,500 lb.\"\n\n\"Without my perceiving it?\"\n\n\"Without your perceiving it.  And if you are not crushed by such a\npressure, it is because the air penetrates the interior of your body\nwith equal pressure.  Hence perfect equilibrium between the interior\nand exterior pressure, which thus neutralise each other, and which\nallows you to bear it without inconvenience.  But in the water it is\nanother thing.\"\n\n\"Yes, I understand,\" replied Ned, becoming more attentive; \"because the\nwater surrounds me, but does not penetrate.\"\n\n\"Precisely, Ned:  so that at 32 feet beneath the surface of the sea you\nwould undergo a pressure of 97,500 lb.; at 320 feet, ten times that\npressure; at 3,200 feet, a hundred times that pressure; lastly, at\n32,000 feet, a thousand times that pressure would be 97,500,000\nlb.--that is to say, that you would be flattened as if you had been\ndrawn from the plates of a hydraulic machine!\"\n\n\"The devil!\" exclaimed Ned.\n\n\"Very well, my worthy harpooner, if some vertebrate, several hundred\nyards long, and large in proportion, can maintain itself in such\ndepths--of those whose surface is represented by millions of square\ninches, that is by tens of millions of pounds, we must estimate the\npressure they undergo.  Consider, then, what must be the resistance of\ntheir bony structure, and the strength of their organisation to\nwithstand such pressure!\"\n\n\"Why!\" exclaimed Ned Land, \"they must be made of iron plates eight\ninches thick, like the armoured frigates.\"\n\n\"As you say, Ned.  And think what destruction such a mass would cause,\nif hurled with the speed of an express train against the hull of a\nvessel.\"\n\n\"Yes--certainly--perhaps,\" replied the Canadian, shaken by these\nfigures, but not yet willing to give in.\n\n\"Well, have I convinced you?\"\n\n\"You have convinced me of one thing, sir, which is that, if such\nanimals do exist at the bottom of the seas, they must necessarily be as\nstrong as you say.\"\n\n\"But if they do not exist, mine obstinate harpooner, how explain the\naccident to the Scotia?\"\n\n\n\nCHAPTER V\n\nAT A VENTURE\n\nThe voyage of the Abraham Lincoln was for a long time marked by no\nspecial incident.  But one circumstance happened which showed the\nwonderful dexterity of Ned Land, and proved what confidence we might\nplace in him.\n\nThe 30th of June, the frigate spoke some American whalers, from whom we\nlearned that they knew nothing about the narwhal.  But one of them, the\ncaptain of the Monroe, knowing that Ned Land had shipped on board the\nAbraham Lincoln, begged for his help in chasing a whale they had in\nsight.  Commander Farragut, desirous of seeing Ned Land at work, gave\nhim permission to go on board the Monroe.  And fate served our Canadian\nso well that, instead of one whale, he harpooned two with a double\nblow, striking one straight to the heart, and catching the other after\nsome minutes' pursuit.\n\nDecidedly, if the monster ever had to do with Ned Land's harpoon, I\nwould not bet in its favour.\n\nThe frigate skirted the south-east coast of America with great\nrapidity.  The 3rd of July we were at the opening of the Straits of\nMagellan, level with Cape Vierges.  But Commander Farragut would not\ntake a tortuous passage, but doubled Cape Horn.\n\nThe ship's crew agreed with him.  And certainly it was possible that\nthey might meet the narwhal in this narrow pass.  Many of the sailors\naffirmed that the monster could not pass there, \"that he was too big\nfor that!\"\n\nThe 6th of July, about three o'clock in the afternoon, the Abraham\nLincoln, at fifteen miles to the south, doubled the solitary island,\nthis lost rock at the extremity of the American continent, to which\nsome Dutch sailors gave the name of their native town, Cape Horn.  The\ncourse was taken towards the north-west, and the next day the screw of\nthe frigate was at last beating the waters of the Pacific.\n\n\"Keep your eyes open!\" called out the sailors.\n\nAnd they were opened widely.  Both eyes and glasses, a little dazzled,\nit is true, by the prospect of two thousand dollars, had not an\ninstant's repose.\n\nI myself, for whom money had no charms, was not the least attentive on\nboard.  Giving but few minutes to my meals, but a few hours to sleep,\nindifferent to either rain or sunshine, I did not leave the poop of the\nvessel.  Now leaning on the netting of the forecastle, now on the\ntaffrail, I devoured with eagerness the soft foam which whitened the\nsea as far as the eye could reach; and how often have I shared the\nemotion of the majority of the crew, when some capricious whale raised\nits black back above the waves!  The poop of the vessel was crowded on\na moment.  The cabins poured forth a torrent of sailors and officers,\neach with heaving breast and troubled eye watching the course of the\ncetacean.  I looked and looked till I was nearly blind, whilst Conseil\nkept repeating in a calm voice:\n\n\"If, sir, you would not squint so much, you would see better!\"\n\nBut vain excitement!  The Abraham Lincoln checked its speed and made\nfor the animal signalled, a simple whale, or common cachalot, which\nsoon disappeared amidst a storm of abuse.\n\nBut the weather was good.  The voyage was being accomplished under the\nmost favourable auspices.  It was then the bad season in Australia, the\nJuly of that zone corresponding to our January in Europe, but the sea\nwas beautiful and easily scanned round a vast circumference.\n\nThe 20th of July, the tropic of Capricorn was cut by 105d of longitude,\nand the 27th of the same month we crossed the Equator on the 110th\nmeridian.  This passed, the frigate took a more decided westerly\ndirection, and scoured the central waters of the Pacific.  Commander\nFarragut thought, and with reason, that it was better to remain in deep\nwater, and keep clear of continents or islands, which the beast itself\nseemed to shun (perhaps because there was not enough water for him!\nsuggested the greater part of the crew). The frigate passed at some\ndistance from the Marquesas and the Sandwich Islands, crossed the\ntropic of Cancer, and made for the China Seas.  We were on the theatre\nof the last diversions of the monster:  and, to say truth, we no longer\nLIVED on board.  The entire ship's crew were undergoing a nervous\nexcitement, of which I can give no idea:  they could not eat, they\ncould not sleep--twenty times a day, a misconception or an optical\nillusion of some sailor seated on the taffrail, would cause dreadful\nperspirations, and these emotions, twenty times repeated, kept us in a\nstate of excitement so violent that a reaction was unavoidable.\n\nAnd truly, reaction soon showed itself.  For three months, during which\na day seemed an age, the Abraham Lincoln furrowed all the waters of the\nNorthern Pacific, running at whales, making sharp deviations from her\ncourse, veering suddenly from one tack to another, stopping suddenly,\nputting on steam, and backing ever and anon at the risk of deranging\nher machinery, and not one point of the Japanese or American coast was\nleft unexplored.\n\nThe warmest partisans of the enterprise now became its most ardent\ndetractors.  Reaction mounted from the crew to the captain himself, and\ncertainly, had it not been for the resolute determination on the part\nof Captain Farragut, the frigate would have headed due southward.  This\nuseless search could not last much longer.  The Abraham Lincoln had\nnothing to reproach herself with, she had done her best to succeed.\nNever had an American ship's crew shown more zeal or patience; its\nfailure could not be placed to their charge--there remained nothing but\nto return.\n\nThis was represented to the commander.  The sailors could not hide\ntheir discontent, and the service suffered.  I will not say there was a\nmutiny on board, but after a reasonable period of obstinacy, Captain\nFarragut (as Columbus did) asked for three days' patience.  If in three\ndays the monster did not appear, the man at the helm should give three\nturns of the wheel, and the Abraham Lincoln would make for the European\nseas.\n\nThis promise was made on the 2nd of November.  It had the effect of\nrallying the ship's crew.  The ocean was watched with renewed\nattention.  Each one wished for a last glance in which to sum up his\nremembrance.  Glasses were used with feverish activity.  It was a grand\ndefiance given to the giant narwhal, and he could scarcely fail to\nanswer the summons and \"appear.\"\n\nTwo days passed, the steam was at half pressure; a thousand schemes\nwere tried to attract the attention and stimulate the apathy of the\nanimal in case it should be met in those parts.  Large quantities of\nbacon were trailed in the wake of the ship, to the great satisfaction\n(I must say) of the sharks.  Small craft radiated in all directions\nround the Abraham Lincoln as she lay to, and did not leave a spot of\nthe sea unexplored.  But the night of the 4th of November arrived\nwithout the unveiling of this submarine mystery.\n\nThe next day, the 5th of November, at twelve, the delay would (morally\nspeaking) expire; after that time, Commander Farragut, faithful to his\npromise, was to turn the course to the south-east and abandon for ever\nthe northern regions of the Pacific.\n\nThe frigate was then in 31° 15' N. lat. and 136° 42' E. long.\nThe coast of Japan still remained less than two hundred miles to\nleeward.  Night was approaching.  They had just struck eight bells;\nlarge clouds veiled the face of the moon, then in its first quarter.\nThe sea undulated peaceably under the stern of the vessel.\n\nAt that moment I was leaning forward on the starboard netting.\nConseil, standing near me, was looking straight before him.  The crew,\nperched in the ratlines, examined the horizon which contracted and\ndarkened by degrees.  Officers with their night glasses scoured the\ngrowing darkness:  sometimes the ocean sparkled under the rays of the\nmoon, which darted between two clouds, then all trace of light was lost\nin the darkness.\n\nIn looking at Conseil, I could see he was undergoing a little of the\ngeneral influence.  At least I thought so.  Perhaps for the first time\nhis nerves vibrated to a sentiment of curiosity.\n\n\"Come, Conseil,\" said I, \"this is the last chance of pocketing the two\nthousand dollars.\"\n\n\"May I be permitted to say, sir,\" replied Conseil, \"that I never\nreckoned on getting the prize; and, had the government of the Union\noffered a hundred thousand dollars, it would have been none the poorer.\"\n\n\"You are right, Conseil.  It is a foolish affair after all, and one\nupon which we entered too lightly.  What time lost, what useless\nemotions!  We should have been back in France six months ago.\"\n\n\"In your little room, sir,\" replied Conseil, \"and in your museum, sir;\nand I should have already classed all your fossils, sir.  And the\nBabiroussa would have been installed in its cage in the Jardin des\nPlantes, and have drawn all the curious people of the capital!\"\n\n\"As you say, Conseil.  I fancy we shall run a fair chance of being\nlaughed at for our pains.\"\n\n\"That's tolerably certain,\" replied Conseil, quietly; \"I think they\nwill make fun of you, sir.  And, must I say it----?\"\n\n\"Go on, my good friend.\"\n\n\"Well, sir, you will only get your deserts.\"\n\n\"Indeed!\"\n\n\"When one has the honour of being a _savant_ as you are, sir, one should\nnot expose one's self to----\"\n\nConseil had not time to finish his compliment.  In the midst of general\nsilence a voice had just been heard.  It was the voice of Ned Land\nshouting:\n\n\"Look out there!  The very thing we are looking for--on our weather\nbeam!\"\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VI\n\nAT FULL STEAM\n\nAt this cry the whole ship's crew hurried towards the\nharpooner--commander, officers, masters, sailors, cabin boys; even the\nengineers left their engines, and the stokers their furnaces.\n\nThe order to stop her had been given, and the frigate now simply went\non by her own momentum.  The darkness was then profound, and, however\ngood the Canadian's eyes were, I asked myself how he had managed to\nsee, and what he had been able to see.  My heart beat as if it would\nbreak.  But Ned Land was not mistaken, and we all perceived the object\nhe pointed to.  At two cables' length from the Abraham Lincoln, on the\nstarboard quarter, the sea seemed to be illuminated all over.  It was\nnot a mere phosphoric phenomenon.  The monster emerged some fathoms\nfrom the water, and then threw out that very intense but mysterious\nlight mentioned in the report of several captains.  This magnificent\nirradiation must have been produced by an agent of great SHINING power.\nThe luminous part traced on the sea an immense oval, much elongated,\nthe centre of which condensed a burning heat, whose overpowering\nbrilliancy died out by successive gradations.\n\n\"It is only a massing of phosphoric particles,\" cried one of the\nofficers.\n\n\"No, sir, certainly not,\" I replied.  \"That brightness is of an\nessentially electrical nature.  Besides, see, see! it moves; it is\nmoving forwards, backwards; it is darting towards us!\"\n\nA general cry arose from the frigate.\n\n\"Silence!\" said the captain.  \"Up with the helm, reverse the engines.\"\n\nThe steam was shut off, and the Abraham Lincoln, beating to port,\ndescribed a semicircle.\n\n\"Right the helm, go ahead,\" cried the captain.\n\nThese orders were executed, and the frigate moved rapidly from the\nburning light.\n\nI was mistaken.  She tried to sheer off, but the supernatural animal\napproached with a velocity double her own.\n\nWe gasped for breath.  Stupefaction more than fear made us dumb and\nmotionless.  The animal gained on us, sporting with the waves.  It made\nthe round of the frigate, which was then making fourteen knots, and\nenveloped it with its electric rings like luminous dust.\n\nThen it moved away two or three miles, leaving a phosphorescent track,\nlike those volumes of steam that the express trains leave behind.  All\nat once from the dark line of the horizon whither it retired to gain\nits momentum, the monster rushed suddenly towards the Abraham Lincoln\nwith alarming rapidity, stopped suddenly about twenty feet from the\nhull, and died out--not diving under the water, for its brilliancy did\nnot abate--but suddenly, and as if the source of this brilliant\nemanation was exhausted.  Then it reappeared on the other side of the\nvessel, as if it had turned and slid under the hull.  Any moment a\ncollision might have occurred which would have been fatal to us.\nHowever, I was astonished at the manoeuvres of the frigate.  She fled\nand did not attack.\n\nOn the captain's face, generally so impassive, was an expression of\nunaccountable astonishment.\n\n\"Mr. Aronnax,\" he said, \"I do not know with what formidable being I\nhave to deal, and I will not imprudently risk my frigate in the midst\nof this darkness.  Besides, how attack this unknown thing, how defend\none's self from it?  Wait for daylight, and the scene will change.\"\n\n\"You have no further doubt, captain, of the nature of the animal?\"\n\n\"No, sir; it is evidently a gigantic narwhal, and an electric one.\"\n\n\"Perhaps,\" added I, \"one can only approach it with a torpedo.\"\n\n\"Undoubtedly,\" replied the captain, \"if it possesses such dreadful\npower, it is the most terrible animal that ever was created.  That is\nwhy, sir, I must be on my guard.\"\n\nThe crew were on their feet all night.  No one thought of sleep.  The\nAbraham Lincoln, not being able to struggle with such velocity, had\nmoderated its pace, and sailed at half speed.  For its part, the\nnarwhal, imitating the frigate, let the waves rock it at will, and\nseemed decided not to leave the scene of the struggle.  Towards\nmidnight, however, it disappeared, or, to use a more appropriate term,\nit \"died out\" like a large glow-worm. Had it fled?  One could only\nfear, not hope it.  But at seven minutes to one o'clock in the morning\na deafening whistling was heard, like that produced by a body of water\nrushing with great violence.\n\nThe captain, Ned Land, and I were then on the poop, eagerly peering\nthrough the profound darkness.\n\n\"Ned Land,\" asked the commander, \"you have often heard the roaring of\nwhales?\"\n\n\"Often, sir; but never such whales the sight of which brought me in two\nthousand dollars.  If I can only approach within four harpoons' length\nof it!\"\n\n\"But to approach it,\" said the commander, \"I ought to put a whaler at\nyour disposal?\"\n\n\"Certainly, sir.\"\n\n\"That will be trifling with the lives of my men.\"\n\n\"And mine too,\" simply said the harpooner.\n\nTowards two o'clock in the morning, the burning light reappeared, not\nless intense, about five miles to windward of the Abraham Lincoln.\nNotwithstanding the distance, and the noise of the wind and sea, one\nheard distinctly the loud strokes of the animal's tail, and even its\npanting breath.  It seemed that, at the moment that the enormous\nnarwhal had come to take breath at the surface of the water, the air\nwas engulfed in its lungs, like the steam in the vast cylinders of a\nmachine of two thousand horse-power.\n\n\"Hum!\" thought I, \"a whale with the strength of a cavalry regiment\nwould be a pretty whale!\"\n\nWe were on the qui vive till daylight, and prepared for the combat.\nThe fishing implements were laid along the hammock nettings.  The\nsecond lieutenant loaded the blunder busses, which could throw harpoons\nto the distance of a mile, and long duck-guns, with explosive bullets,\nwhich inflicted mortal wounds even to the most terrible animals.  Ned\nLand contented himself with sharpening his harpoon--a terrible weapon\nin his hands.\n\nAt six o'clock day began to break; and, with the first glimmer of\nlight, the electric light of the narwhal disappeared.  At seven o'clock\nthe day was sufficiently advanced, but a very thick sea fog obscured\nour view, and the best spy glasses could not pierce it.  That caused\ndisappointment and anger.\n\nI climbed the mizzen-mast. Some officers were already perched on the\nmast-heads. At eight o'clock the fog lay heavily on the waves, and its\nthick scrolls rose little by little.  The horizon grew wider and\nclearer at the same time.  Suddenly, just as on the day before, Ned\nLand's voice was heard:\n\n\"The thing itself on the port quarter!\" cried the harpooner.\n\nEvery eye was turned towards the point indicated.  There, a mile and a\nhalf from the frigate, a long blackish body emerged a yard above the\nwaves.  Its tail, violently agitated, produced a considerable eddy.\nNever did a tail beat the sea with such violence.  An immense track, of\ndazzling whiteness, marked the passage of the animal, and described a\nlong curve.\n\nThe frigate approached the cetacean.  I examined it thoroughly.\n\nThe reports of the Shannon and of the Helvetia had rather exaggerated\nits size, and I estimated its length at only two hundred and fifty\nfeet.  As to its dimensions, I could only conjecture them to be\nadmirably proportioned.  While I watched this phenomenon, two jets of\nsteam and water were ejected from its vents, and rose to the height of\n120 feet; thus I ascertained its way of breathing.  I concluded\ndefinitely that it belonged to the vertebrate branch, class mammalia.\n\nThe crew waited impatiently for their chief's orders.  The latter,\nafter having observed the animal attentively, called the engineer.  The\nengineer ran to him.\n\n\"Sir,\" said the commander, \"you have steam up?\"\n\n\"Yes, sir,\" answered the engineer.\n\n\"Well, make up your fires and put on all steam.\"\n\nThree hurrahs greeted this order.  The time for the struggle had\narrived.  Some moments after, the two funnels of the frigate vomited\ntorrents of black smoke, and the bridge quaked under the trembling of\nthe boilers.\n\nThe Abraham Lincoln, propelled by her wonderful screw, went straight at\nthe animal.  The latter allowed it to come within half a cable's\nlength; then, as if disdaining to dive, it took a little turn, and\nstopped a short distance off.\n\nThis pursuit lasted nearly three-quarters of an hour, without the\nfrigate gaining two yards on the cetacean.  It was quite evident that\nat that rate we should never come up with it.\n\n\"Well, Mr. Land,\" asked the captain, \"do you advise me to put the boats\nout to sea?\"\n\n\"No, sir,\" replied Ned Land; \"because we shall not take that beast\neasily.\"\n\n\"What shall we do then?\"\n\n\"Put on more steam if you can, sir.  With your leave, I mean to post\nmyself under the bowsprit, and, if we get within harpooning distance, I\nshall throw my harpoon.\"\n\n\"Go, Ned,\" said the captain.  \"Engineer, put on more pressure.\"\n\nNed Land went to his post.  The fires were increased, the screw\nrevolved forty-three times a minute, and the steam poured out of the\nvalves.  We heaved the log, and calculated that the Abraham Lincoln was\ngoing at the rate of 18 1/2 miles an hour.\n\nBut the accursed animal swam at the same speed.\n\nFor a whole hour the frigate kept up this pace, without gaining six\nfeet.  It was humiliating for one of the swiftest sailers in the\nAmerican navy.  A stubborn anger seized the crew; the sailors abused\nthe monster, who, as before, disdained to answer them; the captain no\nlonger contented himself with twisting his beard--he gnawed it.\n\nThe engineer was called again.\n\n\"You have turned full steam on?\"\n\n\"Yes, sir,\" replied the engineer.\n\nThe speed of the Abraham Lincoln increased.  Its masts trembled down to\ntheir stepping holes, and the clouds of smoke could hardly find way out\nof the narrow funnels.\n\nThey heaved the log a second time.\n\n\"Well?\" asked the captain of the man at the wheel.\n\n\"Nineteen miles and three-tenths, sir.\"\n\n\"Clap on more steam.\"\n\nThe engineer obeyed.  The manometer showed ten degrees.  But the\ncetacean grew warm itself, no doubt; for without straining itself, it\nmade 19 3/10 miles.\n\nWhat a pursuit!  No, I cannot describe the emotion that vibrated\nthrough me.  Ned Land kept his post, harpoon in hand.  Several times\nthe animal let us gain upon it.--\"We shall catch it! we shall catch\nit!\" cried the Canadian.  But just as he was going to strike, the\ncetacean stole away with a rapidity that could not be estimated at less\nthan thirty miles an hour, and even during our maximum of speed, it\nbullied the frigate, going round and round it.  A cry of fury broke\nfrom everyone!\n\nAt noon we were no further advanced than at eight o'clock in the\nmorning.\n\nThe captain then decided to take more direct means.\n\n\"Ah!\" said he, \"that animal goes quicker than the Abraham Lincoln.\nVery well! we will see whether it will escape these conical bullets.\nSend your men to the forecastle, sir.\"\n\nThe forecastle gun was immediately loaded and slewed round.  But the\nshot passed some feet above the cetacean, which was half a mile off.\n\n\"Another, more to the right,\" cried the commander, \"and five dollars to\nwhoever will hit that infernal beast.\"\n\nAn old gunner with a grey beard--that I can see now--with steady eye\nand grave face, went up to the gun and took a long aim.  A loud report\nwas heard, with which were mingled the cheers of the crew.\n\nThe bullet did its work; it hit the animal, and, sliding off the\nrounded surface, was lost in two miles depth of sea.\n\nThe chase began again, and the captain, leaning towards me, said:\n\n\"I will pursue that beast till my frigate bursts up.\"\n\n\"Yes,\" answered I; \"and you will be quite right to do it.\"\n\nI wished the beast would exhaust itself, and not be insensible to\nfatigue like a steam engine.  But it was of no use.  Hours passed,\nwithout its showing any signs of exhaustion.\n\nHowever, it must be said in praise of the Abraham Lincoln that she\nstruggled on indefatigably.  I cannot reckon the distance she made\nunder three hundred miles during this unlucky day, November the 6th.\nBut night came on, and overshadowed the rough ocean.\n\nNow I thought our expedition was at an end, and that we should never\nagain see the extraordinary animal.  I was mistaken.  At ten minutes to\neleven in the evening, the electric light reappeared three miles to\nwindward of the frigate, as pure, as intense as during the preceding\nnight.\n\nThe narwhal seemed motionless; perhaps, tired with its day's work, it\nslept, letting itself float with the undulation of the waves.  Now was\na chance of which the captain resolved to take advantage.\n\nHe gave his orders.  The Abraham Lincoln kept up half steam, and\nadvanced cautiously so as not to awake its adversary.  It is no rare\nthing to meet in the middle of the ocean whales so sound asleep that\nthey can be successfully attacked, and Ned Land had harpooned more than\none during its sleep.  The Canadian went to take his place again under\nthe bowsprit.\n\nThe frigate approached noiselessly, stopped at two cables' lengths from\nthe animal, and following its track.  No one breathed; a deep silence\nreigned on the bridge.  We were not a hundred feet from the burning\nfocus, the light of which increased and dazzled our eyes.\n\nAt this moment, leaning on the forecastle bulwark, I saw below me Ned\nLand grappling the martingale in one hand, brandishing his terrible\nharpoon in the other, scarcely twenty feet from the motionless animal.\nSuddenly his arm straightened, and the harpoon was thrown; I heard the\nsonorous stroke of the weapon, which seemed to have struck a hard body.\nThe electric light went out suddenly, and two enormous waterspouts\nbroke over the bridge of the frigate, rushing like a torrent from stem\nto stern, overthrowing men, and breaking the lashings of the spars.  A\nfearful shock followed, and, thrown over the rail without having time\nto stop myself, I fell into the sea.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VII\n\nAN UNKNOWN SPECIES OF WHALE\n\nThis unexpected fall so stunned me that I have no clear recollection of\nmy sensations at the time.  I was at first drawn down to a depth of\nabout twenty feet.  I am a good swimmer (though without pretending to\nrival Byron or Edgar Poe, who were masters of the art), and in that\nplunge I did not lose my presence of mind.  Two vigorous strokes\nbrought me to the surface of the water.  My first care was to look for\nthe frigate.  Had the crew seen me disappear?  Had the Abraham Lincoln\nveered round?  Would the captain put out a boat?  Might I hope to be\nsaved?\n\nThe darkness was intense.  I caught a glimpse of a black mass\ndisappearing in the east, its beacon lights dying out in the distance.\nIt was the frigate!  I was lost.\n\n\"Help, help!\"  I shouted, swimming towards the Abraham Lincoln in\ndesperation.\n\nMy clothes encumbered me; they seemed glued to my body, and paralysed\nmy movements.\n\nI was sinking!  I was suffocating!\n\n\"Help!\"\n\nThis was my last cry.  My mouth filled with water; I struggled against\nbeing drawn down the abyss.  Suddenly my clothes were seized by a\nstrong hand, and I felt myself quickly drawn up to the surface of the\nsea; and I heard, yes, I heard these words pronounced in my ear:\n\n\"If master would be so good as to lean on my shoulder, master would\nswim with much greater ease.\"\n\nI seized with one hand my faithful Conseil's arm.\n\n\"Is it you?\" said I, \"you?\"\n\n\"Myself,\" answered Conseil; \"and waiting master's orders.\"\n\n\"That shock threw you as well as me into the sea?\"\n\n\"No; but, being in my master's service, I followed him.\"\n\nThe worthy fellow thought that was but natural.\n\n\"And the frigate?\"  I asked.\n\n\"The frigate?\" replied Conseil, turning on his back; \"I think that\nmaster had better not count too much on her.\"\n\n\"You think so?\"\n\n\"I say that, at the time I threw myself into the sea, I heard the men\nat the wheel say, `The screw and the rudder are broken.'\n\n\"Broken?\"\n\n\"Yes, broken by the monster's teeth.  It is the only injury the Abraham\nLincoln has sustained.  But it is a bad look-out for us--she no longer\nanswers her helm.\"\n\n\"Then we are lost!\"\n\n\"Perhaps so,\" calmly answered Conseil.  \"However, we have still several\nhours before us, and one can do a good deal in some hours.\"\n\nConseil's imperturbable coolness set me up again.  I swam more\nvigorously; but, cramped by my clothes, which stuck to me like a leaden\nweight, I felt great difficulty in bearing up.  Conseil saw this.\n\n\"Will master let me make a slit?\" said he; and, slipping an open knife\nunder my clothes, he ripped them up from top to bottom very rapidly.\nThen he cleverly slipped them off me, while I swam for both of us.\n\nThen I did the same for Conseil, and we continued to swim near to each\nother.\n\nNevertheless, our situation was no less terrible.  Perhaps our\ndisappearance had not been noticed; and, if it had been, the frigate\ncould not tack, being without its helm.  Conseil argued on this\nsupposition, and laid his plans accordingly.  This quiet boy was\nperfectly self-possessed. We then decided that, as our only chance of\nsafety was being picked up by the Abraham Lincoln's boats, we ought to\nmanage so as to wait for them as long as possible.  I resolved then to\nhusband our strength, so that both should not be exhausted at the same\ntime; and this is how we managed:  while one of us lay on our back,\nquite still, with arms crossed, and legs stretched out, the other would\nswim and push the other on in front.  This towing business did not last\nmore than ten minutes each; and relieving each other thus, we could\nswim on for some hours, perhaps till day-break. Poor chance! but hope\nis so firmly rooted in the heart of man!  Moreover, there were two of\nus.  Indeed I declare (though it may seem improbable) if I sought to\ndestroy all hope--if I wished to despair, I could not.\n\nThe collision of the frigate with the cetacean had occurred about\neleven o'clock in the evening before.  I reckoned then we should have\neight hours to swim before sunrise, an operation quite practicable if\nwe relieved each other.  The sea, very calm, was in our favour.\nSometimes I tried to pierce the intense darkness that was only\ndispelled by the phosphorescence caused by our movements.  I watched\nthe luminous waves that broke over my hand, whose mirror-like surface\nwas spotted with silvery rings.  One might have said that we were in a\nbath of quicksilver.\n\nNear one o'clock in the morning, I was seized with dreadful fatigue.\nMy limbs stiffened under the strain of violent cramp.  Conseil was\nobliged to keep me up, and our preservation devolved on him alone.  I\nheard the poor boy pant; his breathing became short and hurried.  I\nfound that he could not keep up much longer.\n\n\"Leave me! leave me!\"  I said to him.\n\n\"Leave my master?  Never!\" replied he.  \"I would drown first.\"\n\nJust then the moon appeared through the fringes of a thick cloud that\nthe wind was driving to the east.  The surface of the sea glittered\nwith its rays.  This kindly light reanimated us.  My head got better\nagain.  I looked at all points of the horizon.  I saw the frigate!  She\nwas five miles from us, and looked like a dark mass, hardly\ndiscernible.  But no boats!\n\nI would have cried out.  But what good would it have been at such a\ndistance!  My swollen lips could utter no sounds.  Conseil could\narticulate some words, and I heard him repeat at intervals, \"Help!\nhelp!\"\n\nOur movements were suspended for an instant; we listened.  It might be\nonly a singing in the ear, but it seemed to me as if a cry answered the\ncry from Conseil.\n\n\"Did you hear?\"  I murmured.\n\n\"Yes!  Yes!\"\n\nAnd Conseil gave one more despairing cry.\n\nThis time there was no mistake!  A human voice responded to ours!  Was\nit the voice of another unfortunate creature, abandoned in the middle\nof the ocean, some other victim of the shock sustained by the vessel?\nOr rather was it a boat from the frigate, that was hailing us in the\ndarkness?\n\nConseil made a last effort, and, leaning on my shoulder, while I struck\nout in a desperate effort, he raised himself half out of the water,\nthen fell back exhausted.\n\n\"What did you see?\"\n\n\"I saw----\" murmured he; \"I saw--but do not talk--reserve all your\nstrength!\"\n\nWhat had he seen?  Then, I know not why, the thought of the monster\ncame into my head for the first time!  But that voice!  The time is\npast for Jonahs to take refuge in whales' bellies!  However, Conseil\nwas towing me again.  He raised his head sometimes, looked before us,\nand uttered a cry of recognition, which was responded to by a voice\nthat came nearer and nearer.  I scarcely heard it.  My strength was\nexhausted; my fingers stiffened; my hand afforded me support no longer;\nmy mouth, convulsively opening, filled with salt water.  Cold crept\nover me.  I raised my head for the last time, then I sank.\n\nAt this moment a hard body struck me.  I clung to it: then I felt that\nI was being drawn up, that I was brought to the surface of the water,\nthat my chest collapsed--I fainted.\n\nIt is certain that I soon came to, thanks to the vigorous rubbings that\nI received.  I half opened my eyes.\n\n\"Conseil!\"  I murmured.\n\n\"Does master call me?\" asked Conseil.\n\nJust then, by the waning light of the moon which was sinking down to\nthe horizon, I saw a face which was not Conseil's and which I\nimmediately recognised.\n\n\"Ned!\"  I cried.\n\n\"The same, sir, who is seeking his prize!\" replied the Canadian.\n\n\"Were you thrown into the sea by the shock to the frigate?\"\n\n\"Yes, Professor; but more fortunate than you, I was able to find a\nfooting almost directly upon a floating island.\"\n\n\"An island?\"\n\n\"Or, more correctly speaking, on our gigantic narwhal.\"\n\n\"Explain yourself, Ned!\"\n\n\"Only I soon found out why my harpoon had not entered its skin and was\nblunted.\"\n\n\"Why, Ned, why?\"\n\n\"Because, Professor, that beast is made of sheet iron.\"\n\nThe Canadian's last words produced a sudden revolution in my brain.  I\nwriggled myself quickly to the top of the being, or object, half out of\nthe water, which served us for a refuge.  I kicked it.  It was\nevidently a hard, impenetrable body, and not the soft substance that\nforms the bodies of the great marine mammalia.  But this hard body\nmight be a bony covering, like that of the antediluvian animals; and I\nshould be free to class this monster among amphibious reptiles, such as\ntortoises or alligators.\n\nWell, no! the blackish back that supported me was smooth, polished,\nwithout scales.  The blow produced a metallic sound; and, incredible\nthough it may be, it seemed, I might say, as if it was made of riveted\nplates.\n\nThere was no doubt about it!  This monster, this natural phenomenon\nthat had puzzled the learned world, and over thrown and misled the\nimagination of seamen of both hemispheres, it must be owned was a still\nmore astonishing phenomenon, inasmuch as it was a simply human\nconstruction.\n\nWe had no time to lose, however.  We were lying upon the back of a sort\nof submarine boat, which appeared (as far as I could judge) like a huge\nfish of steel.  Ned Land's mind was made up on this point.  Conseil and\nI could only agree with him.\n\nJust then a bubbling began at the back of this strange thing (which was\nevidently propelled by a screw), and it began to move.  We had only\njust time to seize hold of the upper part, which rose about seven feet\nout of the water, and happily its speed was not great.\n\n\"As long as it sails horizontally,\" muttered Ned Land, \"I do not mind;\nbut, if it takes a fancy to dive, I would not give two straws for my\nlife.\"\n\nThe Canadian might have said still less.  It became really necessary to\ncommunicate with the beings, whatever they were, shut up inside the\nmachine.  I searched all over the outside for an aperture, a panel, or\na manhole, to use a technical expression; but the lines of the iron\nrivets, solidly driven into the joints of the iron plates, were clear\nand uniform.  Besides, the moon disappeared then, and left us in total\ndarkness.\n\nAt last this long night passed.  My indistinct remembrance prevents my\ndescribing all the impressions it made.  I can only recall one\ncircumstance.  During some lulls of the wind and sea, I fancied I heard\nseveral times vague sounds, a sort of fugitive harmony produced by\nwords of command.  What was, then, the mystery of this submarine craft,\nof which the whole world vainly sought an explanation?  What kind of\nbeings existed in this strange boat?  What mechanical agent caused its\nprodigious speed?\n\nDaybreak appeared.  The morning mists surrounded us, but they soon\ncleared off.  I was about to examine the hull, which formed on deck a\nkind of horizontal platform, when I felt it gradually sinking.\n\n\"Oh! confound it!\" cried Ned Land, kicking the resounding plate.\n\"Open, you inhospitable rascals!\"\n\nHappily the sinking movement ceased.  Suddenly a noise, like iron works\nviolently pushed aside, came from the interior of the boat.  One iron\nplate was moved, a man appeared, uttered an odd cry, and disappeared\nimmediately.\n\nSome moments after, eight strong men, with masked faces, appeared\nnoiselessly, and drew us down into their formidable machine.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VIII\n\nMOBILIS IN MOBILI\n\nThis forcible abduction, so roughly carried out, was accomplished with\nthe rapidity of lightning.  I shivered all over.  Whom had we to deal\nwith?  No doubt some new sort of pirates, who explored the sea in their\nown way.  Hardly had the narrow panel closed upon me, when I was\nenveloped in darkness.  My eyes, dazzled with the outer light, could\ndistinguish nothing.  I felt my naked feet cling to the rungs of an\niron ladder.  Ned Land and Conseil, firmly seized, followed me.  At the\nbottom of the ladder, a door opened, and shut after us immediately with\na bang.\n\nWe were alone.  Where, I could not say, hardly imagine.  All was black,\nand such a dense black that, after some minutes, my eyes had not been\nable to discern even the faintest glimmer.\n\nMeanwhile, Ned Land, furious at these proceedings, gave free vent to\nhis indignation.\n\n\"Confound it!\" cried he, \"here are people who come up to the Scotch for\nhospitality.  They only just miss being cannibals.  I should not be\nsurprised at it, but I declare that they shall not eat me without my\nprotesting.\"\n\n\"Calm yourself, friend Ned, calm yourself,\" replied Conseil, quietly.\n\"Do not cry out before you are hurt.  We are not quite done for yet.\"\n\n\"Not quite,\" sharply replied the Canadian, \"but pretty near, at all\nevents.  Things look black.  Happily, my bowie knife I have still, and\nI can always see well enough to use it.  The first of these pirates who\nlays a hand on me----\"\n\n\"Do not excite yourself, Ned,\" I said to the harpooner, \"and do not\ncompromise us by useless violence.  Who knows that they will not listen\nto us?  Let us rather try to find out where we are.\"\n\nI groped about.  In five steps I came to an iron wall, made of plates\nbolted together.  Then turning back I struck against a wooden table,\nnear which were ranged several stools.  The boards of this prison were\nconcealed under a thick mat, which deadened the noise of the feet.  The\nbare walls revealed no trace of window or door.  Conseil, going round\nthe reverse way, met me, and we went back to the middle of the cabin,\nwhich measured about twenty feet by ten.  As to its height, Ned Land,\nin spite of his own great height, could not measure it.\n\nHalf an hour had already passed without our situation being bettered,\nwhen the dense darkness suddenly gave way to extreme light.  Our prison\nwas suddenly lighted, that is to say, it became filled with a luminous\nmatter, so strong that I could not bear it at first.  In its whiteness\nand intensity I recognised that electric light which played round the\nsubmarine boat like a magnificent phenomenon of phosphorescence.  After\nshutting my eyes involuntarily, I opened them, and saw that this\nluminous agent came from a half globe, unpolished, placed in the roof\nof the cabin.\n\n\"At last one can see,\" cried Ned Land, who, knife in hand, stood on the\ndefensive.\n\n\"Yes,\" said I; \"but we are still in the dark about ourselves.\"\n\n\"Let master have patience,\" said the imperturbable Conseil.\n\nThe sudden lighting of the cabin enabled me to examine it minutely.  It\nonly contained a table and five stools.  The invisible door might be\nhermetically sealed.  No noise was heard.  All seemed dead in the\ninterior of this boat.  Did it move, did it float on the surface of the\nocean, or did it dive into its depths?  I could not guess.\n\nA noise of bolts was now heard, the door opened, and two men appeared.\n\nOne was short, very muscular, broad-shouldered, with robust limbs,\nstrong head, an abundance of black hair, thick moustache, a quick\npenetrating look, and the vivacity which characterises the population\nof Southern France.\n\nThe second stranger merits a more detailed description.  I made out his\nprevailing qualities directly:  self-confidence--because his head was\nwell set on his shoulders, and his black eyes looked around with cold\nassurance; calmness--for his skin, rather pale, showed his coolness of\nblood; energy--evinced by the rapid contraction of his lofty brows; and\ncourage--because his deep breathing denoted great power of lungs.\n\nWhether this person was thirty-five or fifty years of age, I could not\nsay.  He was tall, had a large forehead, straight nose, a clearly cut\nmouth, beautiful teeth, with fine taper hands, indicative of a highly\nnervous temperament.  This man was certainly the most admirable\nspecimen I had ever met.  One particular feature was his eyes, rather\nfar from each other, and which could take in nearly a quarter of the\nhorizon at once.\n\nThis faculty--(I verified it later)--gave him a range of vision far\nsuperior to Ned Land's. When this stranger fixed upon an object, his\neyebrows met, his large eyelids closed around so as to contract the\nrange of his vision, and he looked as if he magnified the objects\nlessened by distance, as if he pierced those sheets of water so opaque\nto our eyes, and as if he read the very depths of the seas.\n\nThe two strangers, with caps made from the fur of the sea otter, and\nshod with sea boots of seal's skin, were dressed in clothes of a\nparticular texture, which allowed free movement of the limbs.  The\ntaller of the two, evidently the chief on board, examined us with great\nattention, without saying a word; then, turning to his companion,\ntalked with him in an unknown tongue.  It was a sonorous, harmonious,\nand flexible dialect, the vowels seeming to admit of very varied\naccentuation.\n\nThe other replied by a shake of the head, and added two or three\nperfectly incomprehensible words.  Then he seemed to question me by a\nlook.\n\nI replied in good French that I did not know his language; but he\nseemed not to understand me, and my situation became more embarrassing.\n\n\"If master were to tell our story,\" said Conseil, \"perhaps these\ngentlemen may understand some words.\"\n\nI began to tell our adventures, articulating each syllable clearly, and\nwithout omitting one single detail.  I announced our names and rank,\nintroducing in person Professor Aronnax, his servant Conseil, and\nmaster Ned Land, the harpooner.\n\nThe man with the soft calm eyes listened to me quietly, even politely,\nand with extreme attention; but nothing in his countenance indicated\nthat he had understood my story.  When I finished, he said not a word.\n\nThere remained one resource, to speak English.  Perhaps they would know\nthis almost universal language.  I knew it--as well as the German\nlanguage--well enough to read it fluently, but not to speak it\ncorrectly.  But, anyhow, we must make ourselves understood.\n\n\"Go on in your turn,\" I said to the harpooner; \"speak your best\nAnglo-Saxon, and try to do better than I.\"\n\nNed did not beg off, and recommenced our story.\n\nTo his great disgust, the harpooner did not seem to have made himself\nmore intelligible than I had.  Our visitors did not stir.  They\nevidently understood neither the language of England nor of France.\n\nVery much embarrassed, after having vainly exhausted our speaking\nresources, I knew not what part to take, when Conseil said:\n\n\"If master will permit me, I will relate it in German.\"\n\nBut in spite of the elegant terms and good accent of the narrator, the\nGerman language had no success.  At last, nonplussed, I tried to\nremember my first lessons, and to narrate our adventures in Latin, but\nwith no better success.  This last attempt being of no avail, the two\nstrangers exchanged some words in their unknown language, and retired.\n\nThe door shut.\n\n\"It is an infamous shame,\" cried Ned Land, who broke out for the\ntwentieth time.  \"We speak to those rogues in French, English, German,\nand Latin, and not one of them has the politeness to answer!\"\n\n\"Calm yourself,\" I said to the impetuous Ned; \"anger will do no good.\"\n\n\"But do you see, Professor,\" replied our irascible companion, \"that we\nshall absolutely die of hunger in this iron cage?\"\n\n\"Bah!\" said Conseil, philosophically; \"we can hold out some time yet.\"\n\n\"My friends,\" I said, \"we must not despair.  We have been worse off\nthan this.  Do me the favour to wait a little before forming an opinion\nupon the commander and crew of this boat.\"\n\n\"My opinion is formed,\" replied Ned Land, sharply.  \"They are rascals.\"\n\n\"Good! and from what country?\"\n\n\"From the land of rogues!\"\n\n\"My brave Ned, that country is not clearly indicated on the map of the\nworld; but I admit that the nationality of the two strangers is hard to\ndetermine.  Neither English, French, nor German, that is quite certain.\nHowever, I am inclined to think that the commander and his companion\nwere born in low latitudes.  There is southern blood in them.  But I\ncannot decide by their appearance whether they are Spaniards, Turks,\nArabians, or Indians.  As to their language, it is quite\nincomprehensible.\"\n\n\"There is the disadvantage of not knowing all languages,\" said Conseil,\n\"or the disadvantage of not having one universal language.\"\n\nAs he said these words, the door opened.  A steward entered.  He\nbrought us clothes, coats and trousers, made of a stuff I did not know.\nI hastened to dress myself, and my companions followed my example.\nDuring that time, the steward--dumb, perhaps deaf--had arranged the\ntable, and laid three plates.\n\n\"This is something like!\" said Conseil.\n\n\"Bah!\" said the angry harpooner, \"what do you suppose they eat here?\nTortoise liver, filleted shark, and beef steaks from seadogs.\"\n\n\"We shall see,\" said Conseil.\n\nThe dishes, of bell metal, were placed on the table, and we took our\nplaces.  Undoubtedly we had to do with civilised people, and, had it\nnot been for the electric light which flooded us, I could have fancied\nI was in the dining-room of the Adelphi Hotel at Liverpool, or at the\nGrand Hotel in Paris.  I must say, however, that there was neither\nbread nor wine.  The water was fresh and clear, but it was water and\ndid not suit Ned Land's taste.  Amongst the dishes which were brought\nto us, I recognised several fish delicately dressed; but of some,\nalthough excellent, I could give no opinion, neither could I tell to\nwhat kingdom they belonged, whether animal or vegetable.  As to the\ndinner-service, it was elegant, and in perfect taste.  Each\nutensil--spoon, fork, knife, plate--had a letter engraved on it, with a\nmotto above it, of which this is an exact facsimile:\n\n\nMOBILIS IN MOBILI N\n\nThe letter N was no doubt the initial of the name of the enigmatical\nperson who commanded at the bottom of the seas.\n\nNed and Conseil did not reflect much.  They devoured the food, and I\ndid likewise.  I was, besides, reassured as to our fate; and it seemed\nevident that our hosts would not let us die of want.\n\nHowever, everything has an end, everything passes away, even the hunger\nof people who have not eaten for fifteen hours.  Our appetites\nsatisfied, we felt overcome with sleep.\n\n\"Faith!  I shall sleep well,\" said Conseil.\n\n\"So shall I,\" replied Ned Land.\n\nMy two companions stretched themselves on the cabin carpet, and were\nsoon sound asleep.  For my own part, too many thoughts crowded my\nbrain, too many insoluble questions pressed upon me, too many fancies\nkept my eyes half open.  Where were we?  What strange power carried us\non?  I felt--or rather fancied I felt--the machine sinking down to the\nlowest beds of the sea.  Dreadful nightmares beset me; I saw in these\nmysterious asylums a world of unknown animals, amongst which this\nsubmarine boat seemed to be of the same kind, living, moving, and\nformidable as they.  Then my brain grew calmer, my imagination wandered\ninto vague unconsciousness, and I soon fell into a deep sleep.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER IX\n\nNED LAND'S TEMPERS\n\nHow long we slept I do not know; but our sleep must have lasted long,\nfor it rested us completely from our fatigues.  I woke first.  My\ncompanions had not moved, and were still stretched in their corner.\n\nHardly roused from my somewhat hard couch, I felt my brain freed, my\nmind clear.  I then began an attentive examination of our cell.\nNothing was changed inside.  The prison was still a prison--the\nprisoners, prisoners.  However, the steward, during our sleep, had\ncleared the table.  I breathed with difficulty.  The heavy air seemed\nto oppress my lungs.  Although the cell was large, we had evidently\nconsumed a great part of the oxygen that it contained.  Indeed, each\nman consumes, in one hour, the oxygen contained in more than 176 pints\nof air, and this air, charged (as then) with a nearly equal quantity of\ncarbonic acid, becomes unbreathable.\n\nIt became necessary to renew the atmosphere of our prison, and no doubt\nthe whole in the submarine boat.  That gave rise to a question in my\nmind.  How would the commander of this floating dwelling-place proceed?\nWould he obtain air by chemical means, in getting by heat the oxygen\ncontained in chlorate of potash, and in absorbing carbonic acid by\ncaustic potash?  Or--a more convenient, economical, and consequently\nmore probable alternative--would he be satisfied to rise and take\nbreath at the surface of the water, like a whale, and so renew for\ntwenty-four hours the atmospheric provision?\n\nIn fact, I was already obliged to increase my respirations to eke out\nof this cell the little oxygen it contained, when suddenly I was\nrefreshed by a current of pure air, and perfumed with saline\nemanations.  It was an invigorating sea breeze, charged with iodine.  I\nopened my mouth wide, and my lungs saturated themselves with fresh\nparticles.\n\nAt the same time I felt the boat rolling.  The iron-plated monster had\nevidently just risen to the surface of the ocean to breathe, after the\nfashion of whales.  I found out from that the mode of ventilating the\nboat.\n\nWhen I had inhaled this air freely, I sought the conduit pipe, which\nconveyed to us the beneficial whiff, and I was not long in finding it.\nAbove the door was a ventilator, through which volumes of fresh air\nrenewed the impoverished atmosphere of the cell.\n\nI was making my observations, when Ned and Conseil awoke almost at the\nsame time, under the influence of this reviving air.  They rubbed their\neyes, stretched themselves, and were on their feet in an instant.\n\n\"Did master sleep well?\" asked Conseil, with his usual politeness.\n\n\"Very well, my brave boy.  And you, Mr. Land?\"\n\n\"Soundly, Professor.  But, I don't know if I am right or not, there\nseems to be a sea breeze!\"\n\nA seaman could not be mistaken, and I told the Canadian all that had\npassed during his sleep.\n\n\"Good!\" said he.  \"That accounts for those roarings we heard, when the\nsupposed narwhal sighted the Abraham Lincoln.\"\n\n\"Quite so, Master Land; it was taking breath.\"\n\n\"Only, Mr. Aronnax, I have no idea what o'clock it is, unless it is\ndinner-time.\"\n\n\"Dinner-time! my good fellow?  Say rather breakfast-time, for we\ncertainly have begun another day.\"\n\n\"So,\" said Conseil, \"we have slept twenty-four hours?\"\n\n\"That is my opinion.\"\n\n\"I will not contradict you,\" replied Ned Land.  \"But, dinner or\nbreakfast, the steward will be welcome, whichever he brings.\"\n\n\"Master Land, we must conform to the rules on board, and I suppose our\nappetites are in advance of the dinner hour.\"\n\n\"That is just like you, friend Conseil,\" said Ned, impatiently.  \"You\nare never out of temper, always calm; you would return thanks before\ngrace, and die of hunger rather than complain!\"\n\nTime was getting on, and we were fearfully hungry; and this time the\nsteward did not appear.  It was rather too long to leave us, if they\nreally had good intentions towards us.  Ned Land, tormented by the\ncravings of hunger, got still more angry; and, notwithstanding his\npromise, I dreaded an explosion when he found himself with one of the\ncrew.\n\nFor two hours more Ned Land's temper increased; he cried, he shouted,\nbut in vain.  The walls were deaf.  There was no sound to be heard in\nthe boat; all was still as death.  It did not move, for I should have\nfelt the trembling motion of the hull under the influence of the screw.\nPlunged in the depths of the waters, it belonged no longer to earth:\nthis silence was dreadful.\n\nI felt terrified, Conseil was calm, Ned Land roared.\n\nJust then a noise was heard outside.  Steps sounded on the metal flags.\nThe locks were turned, the door opened, and the steward appeared.\n\nBefore I could rush forward to stop him, the Canadian had thrown him\ndown, and held him by the throat.  The steward was choking under the\ngrip of his powerful hand.\n\nConseil was already trying to unclasp the harpooner's hand from his\nhalf-suffocated victim, and I was going to fly to the rescue, when\nsuddenly I was nailed to the spot by hearing these words in French:\n\n\"Be quiet, Master Land; and you, Professor, will you be so good as to\nlisten to me?\"\n\n\n\nCHAPTER X\n\nTHE MAN OF THE SEAS\n\nIt was the commander of the vessel who thus spoke.\n\nAt these words, Ned Land rose suddenly.  The steward, nearly strangled,\ntottered out on a sign from his master.  But such was the power of the\ncommander on board, that not a gesture betrayed the resentment which\nthis man must have felt towards the Canadian.  Conseil interested in\nspite of himself, I stupefied, awaited in silence the result of this\nscene.\n\nThe commander, leaning against the corner of a table with his arms\nfolded, scanned us with profound attention.  Did he hesitate to speak?\nDid he regret the words which he had just spoken in French?  One might\nalmost think so.\n\nAfter some moments of silence, which not one of us dreamed of breaking,\n\"Gentlemen,\" said he, in a calm and penetrating voice, \"I speak French,\nEnglish, German, and Latin equally well.  I could, therefore, have\nanswered you at our first interview, but I wished to know you first,\nthen to reflect.  The story told by each one, entirely agreeing in the\nmain points, convinced me of your identity.  I know now that chance has\nbrought before me M. Pierre Aronnax, Professor of Natural History at\nthe Museum of Paris, entrusted with a scientific mission abroad,\nConseil, his servant, and Ned Land, of Canadian origin, harpooner on\nboard the frigate Abraham Lincoln of the navy of the United States of\nAmerica.\"\n\nI bowed assent.  It was not a question that the commander put to me.\nTherefore there was no answer to be made.  This man expressed himself\nwith perfect ease, without any accent.  His sentences were well turned,\nhis words clear, and his fluency of speech remarkable.  Yet, I did not\nrecognise in him a fellow-countryman.\n\nHe continued the conversation in these terms:\n\n\"You have doubtless thought, sir, that I have delayed long in paying\nyou this second visit.  The reason is that, your identity recognised, I\nwished to weigh maturely what part to act towards you.  I have\nhesitated much.  Most annoying circumstances have brought you into the\npresence of a man who has broken all the ties of humanity.  You have\ncome to trouble my existence.\"\n\n\"Unintentionally!\" said I.\n\n\"Unintentionally?\" replied the stranger, raising his voice a little.\n\"Was it unintentionally that the Abraham Lincoln pursued me all over\nthe seas?  Was it unintentionally that you took passage in this\nfrigate?  Was it unintentionally that your cannon-balls rebounded off\nthe plating of my vessel?  Was it unintentionally that Mr. Ned Land\nstruck me with his harpoon?\"\n\nI detected a restrained irritation in these words.  But to these\nrecriminations I had a very natural answer to make, and I made it.\n\n\"Sir,\" said I, \"no doubt you are ignorant of the discussions which have\ntaken place concerning you in America and Europe.  You do not know that\ndivers accidents, caused by collisions with your submarine machine,\nhave excited public feeling in the two continents.  I omit the theories\nwithout number by which it was sought to explain that of which you\nalone possess the secret.  But you must understand that, in pursuing\nyou over the high seas of the Pacific, the Abraham Lincoln believed\nitself to be chasing some powerful sea-monster, of which it was\nnecessary to rid the ocean at any price.\"\n\nA half-smile curled the lips of the commander:  then, in a calmer tone:\n\n\"M. Aronnax,\" he replied, \"dare you affirm that your frigate would not\nas soon have pursued and cannonaded a submarine boat as a monster?\"\n\nThis question embarrassed me, for certainly Captain Farragut might not\nhave hesitated.  He might have thought it his duty to destroy a\ncontrivance of this kind, as he would a gigantic narwhal.\n\n\"You understand then, sir,\" continued the stranger, \"that I have the\nright to treat you as enemies?\"\n\nI answered nothing, purposely.  For what good would it be to discuss\nsuch a proposition, when force could destroy the best arguments?\n\n\"I have hesitated some time,\" continued the commander; \"nothing obliged\nme to show you hospitality.  If I chose to separate myself from you, I\nshould have no interest in seeing you again; I could place you upon the\ndeck of this vessel which has served you as a refuge, I could sink\nbeneath the waters, and forget that you had ever existed.  Would not\nthat be my right?\"\n\n\"It might be the right of a savage,\" I answered, \"but not that of a\ncivilised man.\"\n\n\"Professor,\" replied the commander, quickly, \"I am not what you call a\ncivilised man!  I have done with society entirely, for reasons which I\nalone have the right of appreciating.  I do not, therefore, obey its\nlaws, and I desire you never to allude to them before me again!\"\n\nThis was said plainly.  A flash of anger and disdain kindled in the\neyes of the Unknown, and I had a glimpse of a terrible past in the life\nof this man.  Not only had he put himself beyond the pale of human\nlaws, but he had made himself independent of them, free in the\nstrictest acceptation of the word, quite beyond their reach!  Who then\nwould dare to pursue him at the bottom of the sea, when, on its\nsurface, he defied all attempts made against him?\n\nWhat vessel could resist the shock of his submarine monitor?  What\ncuirass, however thick, could withstand the blows of his spur?  No man\ncould demand from him an account of his actions; God, if he believed in\none--his conscience, if he had one--were the sole judges to whom he was\nanswerable.\n\nThese reflections crossed my mind rapidly, whilst the stranger\npersonage was silent, absorbed, and as if wrapped up in himself.  I\nregarded him with fear mingled with interest, as, doubtless, OEdiphus\nregarded the Sphinx.\n\nAfter rather a long silence, the commander resumed the conversation.\n\n\"I have hesitated,\" said he, \"but I have thought that my interest might\nbe reconciled with that pity to which every human being has a right.\nYou will remain on board my vessel, since fate has cast you there.  You\nwill be free; and, in exchange for this liberty, I shall only impose\none single condition.  Your word of honour to submit to it will\nsuffice.\"\n\n\"Speak, sir,\" I answered.  \"I suppose this condition is one which a man\nof honour may accept?\"\n\n\"Yes, sir; it is this:  It is possible that certain events, unforeseen,\nmay oblige me to consign you to your cabins for some hours or some\ndays, as the case may be.  As I desire never to use violence, I expect\nfrom you, more than all the others, a passive obedience.  In thus\nacting, I take all the responsibility:  I acquit you entirely, for I\nmake it an impossibility for you to see what ought not to be seen.  Do\nyou accept this condition?\"\n\nThen things took place on board which, to say the least, were singular,\nand which ought not to be seen by people who were not placed beyond the\npale of social laws.  Amongst the surprises which the future was\npreparing for me, this might not be the least.\n\n\"We accept,\" I answered; \"only I will ask your permission, sir, to\naddress one question to you--one only.\"\n\n\"Speak, sir.\"\n\n\"You said that we should be free on board.\"\n\n\"Entirely.\"\n\n\"I ask you, then, what you mean by this liberty?\"\n\n\"Just the liberty to go, to come, to see, to observe even all that\npasses here save under rare circumstances--the liberty, in short, which\nwe enjoy ourselves, my companions and I.\"\n\nIt was evident that we did not understand one another.\n\n\"Pardon me, sir,\" I resumed, \"but this liberty is only what every\nprisoner has of pacing his prison.  It cannot suffice us.\"\n\n\"It must suffice you, however.\"\n\n\"What! we must renounce for ever seeing our country, our friends, our\nrelations again?\"\n\n\"Yes, sir.  But to renounce that unendurable worldly yoke which men\nbelieve to be liberty is not perhaps so painful as you think.\"\n\n\"Well,\" exclaimed Ned Land, \"never will I give my word of honour not to\ntry to escape.\"\n\n\"I did not ask you for your word of honour, Master Land,\" answered the\ncommander, coldly.\n\n\"Sir,\" I replied, beginning to get angry in spite of my self, \"you\nabuse your situation towards us; it is cruelty.\"\n\n\"No, sir, it is clemency.  You are my prisoners of war.  I keep you,\nwhen I could, by a word, plunge you into the depths of the ocean.  You\nattacked me.  You came to surprise a secret which no man in the world\nmust penetrate--the secret of my whole existence.  And you think that I\nam going to send you back to that world which must know me no more?\nNever!  In retaining you, it is not you whom I guard--it is myself.\"\n\nThese words indicated a resolution taken on the part of the commander,\nagainst which no arguments would prevail.\n\n\"So, sir,\" I rejoined, \"you give us simply the choice between life and\ndeath?\"\n\n\"Simply.\"\n\n\"My friends,\" said I, \"to a question thus put, there is nothing to\nanswer.  But no word of honour binds us to the master of this vessel.\"\n\n\"None, sir,\" answered the Unknown.\n\nThen, in a gentler tone, he continued:\n\n\"Now, permit me to finish what I have to say to you.  I know you, M.\nAronnax.  You and your companions will not, perhaps, have so much to\ncomplain of in the chance which has bound you to my fate.  You will\nfind amongst the books which are my favourite study the work which you\nhave published on `the depths of the sea.'  I have often read it.  You\nhave carried out your work as far as terrestrial science permitted you.\nBut you do not know all--you have not seen all.  Let me tell you then,\nProfessor, that you will not regret the time passed on board my vessel.\nYou are going to visit the land of marvels.\"\n\nThese words of the commander had a great effect upon me.  I cannot deny\nit.  My weak point was touched; and I forgot, for a moment, that the\ncontemplation of these sublime subjects was not worth the loss of\nliberty.  Besides, I trusted to the future to decide this grave\nquestion.  So I contented myself with saying:\n\n\"By what name ought I to address you?\"\n\n\"Sir,\" replied the commander, \"I am nothing to you but Captain Nemo;\nand you and your companions are nothing to me but the passengers of the\nNautilus.\"\n\nCaptain Nemo called.  A steward appeared.  The captain gave him his\norders in that strange language which I did not understand.  Then,\nturning towards the Canadian and Conseil:\n\n\"A repast awaits you in your cabin,\" said he.  \"Be so good as to follow\nthis man.\n\n\"And now, M. Aronnax, our breakfast is ready.  Permit me to lead the\nway.\"\n\n\"I am at your service, Captain.\"\n\nI followed Captain Nemo; and as soon as I had passed through the door,\nI found myself in a kind of passage lighted by electricity, similar to\nthe waist of a ship.  After we had proceeded a dozen yards, a second\ndoor opened before me.\n\nI then entered a dining-room, decorated and furnished in severe taste.\nHigh oaken sideboards, inlaid with ebony, stood at the two extremities\nof the room, and upon their shelves glittered china, porcelain, and\nglass of inestimable value.  The plate on the table sparkled in the\nrays which the luminous ceiling shed around, while the light was\ntempered and softened by exquisite paintings.\n\nIn the centre of the room was a table richly laid out.  Captain Nemo\nindicated the place I was to occupy.\n\nThe breakfast consisted of a certain number of dishes, the contents of\nwhich were furnished by the sea alone; and I was ignorant of the nature\nand mode of preparation of some of them.  I acknowledged that they were\ngood, but they had a peculiar flavour, which I easily became accustomed\nto.  These different aliments appeared to me to be rich in phosphorus,\nand I thought they must have a marine origin.\n\nCaptain Nemo looked at me.  I asked him no questions, but he guessed my\nthoughts, and answered of his own accord the questions which I was\nburning to address to him.\n\n\"The greater part of these dishes are unknown to you,\" he said to me.\n\"However, you may partake of them without fear.  They are wholesome and\nnourishing.  For a long time I have renounced the food of the earth,\nand I am never ill now.  My crew, who are healthy, are fed on the same\nfood.\"\n\n\"So,\" said I, \"all these eatables are the produce of the sea?\"\n\n\"Yes, Professor, the sea supplies all my wants.  Sometimes I cast my\nnets in tow, and I draw them in ready to break.  Sometimes I hunt in\nthe midst of this element, which appears to be inaccessible to man, and\nquarry the game which dwells in my submarine forests.  My flocks, like\nthose of Neptune's old shepherds, graze fearlessly in the immense\nprairies of the ocean.  I have a vast property there, which I cultivate\nmyself, and which is always sown by the hand of the Creator of all\nthings.\"\n\n\"I can understand perfectly, sir, that your nets furnish excellent fish\nfor your table; I can understand also that you hunt aquatic game in\nyour submarine forests; but I cannot understand at all how a particle\nof meat, no matter how small, can figure in your bill of fare.\"\n\n\"This, which you believe to be meat, Professor, is nothing else than\nfillet of turtle.  Here are also some dolphins' livers, which you take\nto be ragout of pork.  My cook is a clever fellow, who excels in\ndressing these various products of the ocean.  Taste all these dishes.\nHere is a preserve of sea-cucumber, which a Malay would declare to be\nunrivalled in the world; here is a cream, of which the milk has been\nfurnished by the cetacea, and the sugar by the great fucus of the North\nSea; and, lastly, permit me to offer you some preserve of anemones,\nwhich is equal to that of the most delicious fruits.\"\n\nI tasted, more from curiosity than as a connoisseur, whilst Captain\nNemo enchanted me with his extraordinary stories.\n\n\"You like the sea, Captain?\"\n\n\"Yes; I love it!  The sea is everything.  It covers seven tenths of the\nterrestrial globe.  Its breath is pure and healthy.  It is an immense\ndesert, where man is never lonely, for he feels life stirring on all\nsides.  The sea is only the embodiment of a supernatural and wonderful\nexistence.  It is nothing but love and emotion; it is the `Living\nInfinite,' as one of your poets has said.  In fact, Professor, Nature\nmanifests herself in it by her three kingdoms--mineral, vegetable, and\nanimal.  The sea is the vast reservoir of Nature.  The globe began with\nsea, so to speak; and who knows if it will not end with it?  In it is\nsupreme tranquillity.  The sea does not belong to despots.  Upon its\nsurface men can still exercise unjust laws, fight, tear one another to\npieces, and be carried away with terrestrial horrors.  But at thirty\nfeet below its level, their reign ceases, their influence is quenched,\nand their power disappears.  Ah! sir, live--live in the bosom of the\nwaters!  There only is independence!  There I recognise no masters!\nThere I am free!\"\n\nCaptain Nemo suddenly became silent in the midst of this enthusiasm, by\nwhich he was quite carried away.  For a few moments he paced up and\ndown, much agitated.  Then he became more calm, regained his accustomed\ncoldness of expression, and turning towards me:\n\n\"Now, Professor,\" said he, \"if you wish to go over the Nautilus, I am\nat your service.\"\n\nCaptain Nemo rose.  I followed him.  A double door, contrived at the\nback of the dining-room, opened, and I entered a room equal in\ndimensions to that which I had just quitted.\n\nIt was a library.  High pieces of furniture, of black violet ebony\ninlaid with brass, supported upon their wide shelves a great number of\nbooks uniformly bound.  They followed the shape of the room,\nterminating at the lower part in huge divans, covered with brown\nleather, which were curved, to afford the greatest comfort.  Light\nmovable desks, made to slide in and out at will, allowed one to rest\none's book while reading.  In the centre stood an immense table,\ncovered with pamphlets, amongst which were some newspapers, already of\nold date.  The electric light flooded everything; it was shed from four\nunpolished globes half sunk in the volutes of the ceiling.  I looked\nwith real admiration at this room, so ingeniously fitted up, and I\ncould scarcely believe my eyes.\n\n\"Captain Nemo,\" said I to my host, who had just thrown himself on one\nof the divans, \"this is a library which would do honour to more than\none of the continental palaces, and I am absolutely astounded when I\nconsider that it can follow you to the bottom of the seas.\"\n\n\"Where could one find greater solitude or silence, Professor?\" replied\nCaptain Nemo.  \"Did your study in the Museum afford you such perfect\nquiet?\"\n\n\"No, sir; and I must confess that it is a very poor one after yours.\nYou must have six or seven thousand volumes here.\"\n\n\"Twelve thousand, M. Aronnax.  These are the only ties which bind me to\nthe earth.  But I had done with the world on the day when my Nautilus\nplunged for the first time beneath the waters.  That day I bought my\nlast volumes, my last pamphlets, my last papers, and from that time I\nwish to think that men no longer think or write.  These books,\nProfessor, are at your service besides, and you can make use of them\nfreely.\"\n\nI thanked Captain Nemo, and went up to the shelves of the library.\nWorks on science, morals, and literature abounded in every language;\nbut I did not see one single work on political economy; that subject\nappeared to be strictly proscribed.  Strange to say, all these books\nwere irregularly arranged, in whatever language they were written; and\nthis medley proved that the Captain of the Nautilus must have read\nindiscriminately the books which he took up by chance.\n\n\"Sir,\" said I to the Captain, \"I thank you for having placed this\nlibrary at my disposal.  It contains treasures of science, and I shall\nprofit by them.\"\n\n\"This room is not only a library,\" said Captain Nemo, \"it is also a\nsmoking-room.\"\n\n\"A smoking-room!\" I cried.  \"Then one may smoke on board?\"\n\n\"Certainly.\"\n\n\"Then, sir, I am forced to believe that you have kept up a\ncommunication with Havannah.\"\n\n\"Not any,\" answered the Captain.  \"Accept this cigar, M. Aronnax; and,\nthough it does not come from Havannah, you will be pleased with it, if\nyou are a connoisseur.\"\n\nI took the cigar which was offered me; its shape recalled the London\nones, but it seemed to be made of leaves of gold.  I lighted it at a\nlittle brazier, which was supported upon an elegant bronze stem, and\ndrew the first whiffs with the delight of a lover of smoking who has\nnot smoked for two days.\n\n\"It is excellent, but it is not tobacco.\"\n\n\"No!\" answered the Captain, \"this tobacco comes neither from Havannah\nnor from the East.  It is a kind of sea-weed, rich in nicotine, with\nwhich the sea provides me, but somewhat sparingly.\"\n\nAt that moment Captain Nemo opened a door which stood opposite to that\nby which I had entered the library, and I passed into an immense\ndrawing-room splendidly lighted.\n\nIt was a vast, four-sided room, thirty feet long, eighteen wide, and\nfifteen high.  A luminous ceiling, decorated with light arabesques,\nshed a soft clear light over all the marvels accumulated in this\nmuseum.  For it was in fact a museum, in which an intelligent and\nprodigal hand had gathered all the treasures of nature and art, with\nthe artistic confusion which distinguishes a painter's studio.\n\nThirty first-rate pictures, uniformly framed, separated by bright\ndrapery, ornamented the walls, which were hung with tapestry of severe\ndesign. I saw works of great value, the greater part of which I had\nadmired in the special collections of Europe, and in the exhibitions of\npaintings. The several schools of the old masters were represented by a\nMadonna of Raphael, a Virgin of Leonardo da Vinci, a nymph of Corregio,\na woman of Titan, an Adoration of Veronese, an Assumption of Murillo, a\nportrait of Holbein, a monk of Velasquez, a martyr of Ribera, a fair of\nRubens, two Flemish landscapes of Teniers, three little \"genre\"\npictures of Gerard Dow, Metsu, and Paul Potter, two specimens of\nGericault and Prudhon, and some sea-pieces of Backhuysen and Vernet.\nAmongst the works of modern painters were pictures with the signatures\nof Delacroix, Ingres, Decamps, Troyon, Meissonier, Daubigny, etc.; and\nsome admirable statues in marble and bronze, after the finest antique\nmodels, stood upon pedestals in the corners of this magnificent museum.\nAmazement, as the Captain of the Nautilus had predicted, had already\nbegun to take possession of me.\n\n\"Professor,\" said this strange man, \"you must excuse the unceremonious\nway in which I receive you, and the disorder of this room.\"\n\n\"Sir,\" I answered, \"without seeking to know who you are, I recognise in\nyou an artist.\"\n\n\"An amateur, nothing more, sir.  Formerly I loved to collect these\nbeautiful works created by the hand of man.  I sought them greedily,\nand ferreted them out indefatigably, and I have been able to bring\ntogether some objects of great value.  These are my last souvenirs of\nthat world which is dead to me.  In my eyes, your modern artists are\nalready old; they have two or three thousand years of existence; I\nconfound them in my own mind.  Masters have no age.\"\n\n\"And these musicians?\" said I, pointing out some works of Weber,\nRossini, Mozart, Beethoven, Haydn, Meyerbeer, Herold, Wagner, Auber,\nGounod, and a number of others, scattered over a large model\npiano-organ which occupied one of the panels of the drawing-room.\n\n\"These musicians,\" replied Captain Nemo, \"are the contemporaries of\nOrpheus; for in the memory of the dead all chronological differences\nare effaced; and I am dead, Professor; as much dead as those of your\nfriends who are sleeping six feet under the earth!\"\n\nCaptain Nemo was silent, and seemed lost in a profound reverie. I\ncontemplated him with deep interest, analysing in silence the strange\nexpression of his countenance. Leaning on his elbow against an angle of\na costly mosaic table, he no longer saw me,--he had forgotten my\npresence.\n\nI did not disturb this reverie, and continued my observation of the\ncuriosities which enriched this drawing-room.\n\nUnder elegant glass cases, fixed by copper rivets, were classed and\nlabelled the most precious productions of the sea which had ever been\npresented to the eye of a naturalist.  My delight as a professor may be\nconceived.\n\nThe division containing the zoophytes presented the most curious\nspecimens of the two groups of polypi and echinodermes. In the first\ngroup, the tubipores, were gorgones arranged like a fan, soft sponges\nof Syria, ises of the Moluccas, pennatules, an admirable virgularia of\nthe Norwegian seas, variegated unbellulairae, alcyonariae, a whole\nseries of madrepores, which my master Milne Edwards has so cleverly\nclassified, amongst which I remarked some wonderful flabellinae\noculinae of the Island of Bourbon, the \"Neptune's car\" of the Antilles,\nsuperb varieties of corals--in short, every species of those curious\npolypi of which entire islands are formed, which will one day become\ncontinents. Of the echinodermes, remarkable for their coating of\nspines, asteri, sea-stars, pantacrinae, comatules, asterophons, echini,\nholothuri, etc., represented individually a complete collection of this\ngroup.\n\nA somewhat nervous conchyliologist would certainly have fainted before\nother more numerous cases, in which were classified the specimens of\nmolluscs. It was a collection of inestimable value, which time fails me\nto describe minutely. Amongst these specimens I will quote from memory\nonly the elegant royal hammer-fish of the Indian Ocean, whose regular\nwhite spots stood out brightly on a red and brown ground, an imperial\nspondyle, bright-coloured, bristling with spines, a rare specimen in\nthe European museums--(I estimated its value at not less than L1000); a\ncommon hammer-fish of the seas of New Holland, which is only procured\nwith difficulty; exotic buccardia of Senegal; fragile white bivalve\nshells, which a breath might shatter like a soap-bubble; several\nvarieties of the aspirgillum of Java, a kind of calcareous tube, edged\nwith leafy folds, and much debated by amateurs; a whole series of\ntrochi, some a greenish-yellow, found in the American seas, others a\nreddish-brown, natives of Australian waters; others from the Gulf of\nMexico, remarkable for their imbricated shell; stellari found in the\nSouthern Seas; and last, the rarest of all, the magnificent spur of New\nZealand; and every description of delicate and fragile shells to which\nscience has given appropriate names.\n\nApart, in separate compartments, were spread out chaplets of pearls of\nthe greatest beauty, which reflected the electric light in little\nsparks of fire; pink pearls, torn from the pinna-marina of the Red Sea;\ngreen pearls of the haliotyde iris; yellow, blue and black pearls, the\ncurious productions of the divers molluscs of every ocean, and certain\nmussels of the water-courses of the North; lastly, several specimens of\ninestimable value which had been gathered from the rarest pintadines.\nSome of these pearls were larger than a pigeon's egg, and were worth as\nmuch, and more than that which the traveller Tavernier sold to the Shah\nof Persia for three millions, and surpassed the one in the possession\nof the Imaum of Muscat, which I had believed to be unrivalled in the\nworld.\n\nTherefore, to estimate the value of this collection was simply\nimpossible.  Captain Nemo must have expended millions in the\nacquirement of these various specimens, and I was thinking what source\nhe could have drawn from, to have been able thus to gratify his fancy\nfor collecting, when I was interrupted by these words:\n\n\"You are examining my shells, Professor?  Unquestionably they must be\ninteresting to a naturalist; but for me they have a far greater charm,\nfor I have collected them all with my own hand, and there is not a sea\non the face of the globe which has escaped my researches.\"\n\n\"I can understand, Captain, the delight of wandering about in the midst\nof such riches.  You are one of those who have collected their\ntreasures themselves.  No museum in Europe possesses such a collection\nof the produce of the ocean.  But if I exhaust all my admiration upon\nit, I shall have none left for the vessel which carries it.  I do not\nwish to pry into your secrets:  but I must confess that this Nautilus,\nwith the motive power which is confined in it, the contrivances which\nenable it to be worked, the powerful agent which propels it, all excite\nmy curiosity to the highest pitch.  I see suspended on the walls of\nthis room instruments of whose use I am ignorant.\"\n\n\"You will find these same instruments in my own room, Professor, where\nI shall have much pleasure in explaining their use to you.  But first\ncome and inspect the cabin which is set apart for your own use.  You\nmust see how you will be accommodated on board the Nautilus.\"\n\nI followed Captain Nemo who, by one of the doors opening from each\npanel of the drawing-room, regained the waist.  He conducted me towards\nthe bow, and there I found, not a cabin, but an elegant room, with a\nbed, dressing-table, and several other pieces of excellent furniture.\n\nI could only thank my host.\n\n\"Your room adjoins mine,\" said he, opening a door, \"and mine opens into\nthe drawing-room that we have just quitted.\"\n\nI entered the Captain's room:  it had a severe, almost a monkish\naspect.  A small iron bedstead, a table, some articles for the toilet;\nthe whole lighted by a skylight.  No comforts, the strictest\nnecessaries only.\n\nCaptain Nemo pointed to a seat.\n\n\"Be so good as to sit down,\" he said.  I seated myself, and he began\nthus:\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XI\n\nALL BY ELECTRICITY\n\n\"Sir,\" said Captain Nemo, showing me the instruments hanging on the\nwalls of his room, \"here are the contrivances required for the\nnavigation of the Nautilus.  Here, as in the drawing-room, I have them\nalways under my eyes, and they indicate my position and exact direction\nin the middle of the ocean.  Some are known to you, such as the\nthermometer, which gives the internal temperature of the Nautilus; the\nbarometer, which indicates the weight of the air and foretells the\nchanges of the weather; the hygrometer, which marks the dryness of the\natmosphere; the storm-glass, the contents of which, by decomposing,\nannounce the approach of tempests; the compass, which guides my course;\nthe sextant, which shows the latitude by the altitude of the sun;\nchronometers, by which I calculate the longitude; and glasses for day\nand night, which I use to examine the points of the horizon, when the\nNautilus rises to the surface of the waves.\"\n\n\"These are the usual nautical instruments,\" I replied, \"and I know the\nuse of them.  But these others, no doubt, answer to the particular\nrequirements of the Nautilus.  This dial with movable needle is a\nmanometer, is it not?\"\n\n\"It is actually a manometer.  But by communication with the water,\nwhose external pressure it indicates, it gives our depth at the same\ntime.\"\n\n\"And these other instruments, the use of which I cannot guess?\"\n\n\"Here, Professor, I ought to give you some explanations.  Will you be\nkind enough to listen to me?\"\n\nHe was silent for a few moments, then he said:\n\n\"There is a powerful agent, obedient, rapid, easy, which conforms to\nevery use, and reigns supreme on board my vessel.  Everything is done\nby means of it.  It lights, warms it, and is the soul of my mechanical\napparatus.  This agent is electricity.\"\n\n\"Electricity?\"  I cried in surprise.\n\n\"Yes, sir.\"\n\n\"Nevertheless, Captain, you possess an extreme rapidity of movement,\nwhich does not agree well with the power of electricity.  Until now,\nits dynamic force has remained under restraint, and has only been able\nto produce a small amount of power.\"\n\n\"Professor,\" said Captain Nemo, \"my electricity is not everybody's.\nYou know what sea-water is composed of.  In a thousand grammes are\nfound 96 1/2 per cent. of water, and about 2 2/3 per cent.  of chloride\nof sodium; then, in a smaller quantity, chlorides of magnesium and of\npotassium, bromide of magnesium, sulphate of magnesia, sulphate and\ncarbonate of lime.  You see, then, that chloride of sodium forms a\nlarge part of it.  So it is this sodium that I extract from the\nsea-water, and of which I compose my ingredients.  I owe all to the\nocean; it produces electricity, and electricity gives heat, light,\nmotion, and, in a word, life to the Nautilus.\"\n\n\"But not the air you breathe?\"\n\n\"Oh!  I could manufacture the air necessary for my consumption, but it\nis useless, because I go up to the surface of the water when I please.\nHowever, if electricity does not furnish me with air to breathe, it\nworks at least the powerful pumps that are stored in spacious\nreservoirs, and which enable me to prolong at need, and as long as I\nwill, my stay in the depths of the sea.  It gives a uniform and\nunintermittent light, which the sun does not.  Now look at this clock;\nit is electrical, and goes with a regularity that defies the best\nchronometers.  I have divided it into twenty-four hours, like the\nItalian clocks, because for me there is neither night nor day, sun nor\nmoon, but only that factitious light that I take with me to the bottom\nof the sea.  Look! just now, it is ten o'clock in the morning.\"\n\n\"Exactly.\"\n\n\"Another application of electricity.  This dial hanging in front of us\nindicates the speed of the Nautilus.  An electric thread puts it in\ncommunication with the screw, and the needle indicates the real speed.\nLook! now we are spinning along with a uniform speed of fifteen miles\nan hour.\"\n\n\"It is marvelous!  And I see, Captain, you were right to make use of\nthis agent that takes the place of wind, water, and steam.\"\n\n\"We have not finished, M. Aronnax,\" said Captain Nemo, rising.  \"If you\nwill allow me, we will examine the stern of the Nautilus.\"\n\nReally, I knew already the anterior part of this submarine boat, of\nwhich this is the exact division, starting from the ship's head: the\ndining-room, five yards long, separated from the library by a\nwater-tight partition; the library, five yards long; the large\ndrawing-room, ten yards long, separated from the Captain's room by a\nsecond water-tight partition; the said room, five yards in length;\nmine, two and a half yards; and, lastly a reservoir of air, seven and a\nhalf yards, that extended to the bows.  Total length thirty five yards,\nor one hundred and five feet.  The partitions had doors that were shut\nhermetically by means of india-rubber instruments, and they ensured the\nsafety of the Nautilus in case of a leak.\n\nI followed Captain Nemo through the waist, and arrived at the centre of\nthe boat.  There was a sort of well that opened between two partitions.\nAn iron ladder, fastened with an iron hook to the partition, led to the\nupper end.  I asked the Captain what the ladder was used for.\n\n\"It leads to the small boat,\" he said.\n\n\"What! have you a boat?\"  I exclaimed, in surprise.\n\n\"Of course; an excellent vessel, light and insubmersible, that serves\neither as a fishing or as a pleasure boat.\"\n\n\"But then, when you wish to embark, you are obliged to come to the\nsurface of the water?\"\n\n\"Not at all.  This boat is attached to the upper part of the hull of\nthe Nautilus, and occupies a cavity made for it.  It is decked, quite\nwater-tight, and held together by solid bolts.  This ladder leads to a\nman-hole made in the hull of the Nautilus, that corresponds with a\nsimilar hole made in the side of the boat.  By this double opening I\nget into the small vessel.  They shut the one belonging to the\nNautilus; I shut the other by means of screw pressure.  I undo the\nbolts, and the little boat goes up to the surface of the sea with\nprodigious rapidity.  I then open the panel of the bridge, carefully\nshut till then; I mast it, hoist my sail, take my oars, and I'm off.\"\n\n\"But how do you get back on board?\"\n\n\"I do not come back, M. Aronnax; the Nautilus comes to me.\"\n\n\"By your orders?\"\n\n\"By my orders.  An electric thread connects us.  I telegraph to it, and\nthat is enough.\"\n\n\"Really,\" I said, astonished at these marvels, \"nothing can be more\nsimple.\"\n\nAfter having passed by the cage of the staircase that led to the\nplatform, I saw a cabin six feet long, in which Conseil and Ned Land,\nenchanted with their repast, were devouring it with avidity.  Then a\ndoor opened into a kitchen nine feet long, situated between the large\nstore-rooms. There electricity, better than gas itself, did all the\ncooking.  The streams under the furnaces gave out to the sponges of\nplatina a heat which was regularly kept up and distributed.  They also\nheated a distilling apparatus, which, by evaporation, furnished\nexcellent drinkable water.  Near this kitchen was a bathroom\ncomfortably furnished, with hot and cold water taps.\n\nNext to the kitchen was the berth-room of the vessel, sixteen feet\nlong.  But the door was shut, and I could not see the management of it,\nwhich might have given me an idea of the number of men employed on\nboard the Nautilus.\n\nAt the bottom was a fourth partition that separated this office from\nthe engine-room. A door opened, and I found myself in the compartment\nwhere Captain Nemo--certainly an engineer of a very high order--had\narranged his locomotive machinery.  This engine-room, clearly lighted,\ndid not measure less than sixty-five feet in length.  It was divided\ninto two parts; the first contained the materials for producing\nelectricity, and the second the machinery that connected it with the\nscrew.  I examined it with great interest, in order to understand the\nmachinery of the Nautilus.\n\n\"You see,\" said the Captain, \"I use Bunsen's contrivances, not\nRuhmkorff's. Those would not have been powerful enough.  Bunsen's are\nfewer in number, but strong and large, which experience proves to be\nthe best.  The electricity produced passes forward, where it works, by\nelectro-magnets of great size, on a system of levers and cog-wheels\nthat transmit the movement to the axle of the screw.  This one, the\ndiameter of which is nineteen feet, and the thread twenty-three feet,\nperforms about 120 revolutions in a second.\"\n\n\"And you get then?\"\n\n\"A speed of fifty miles an hour.\"\n\n\"I have seen the Nautilus manoeuvre before the Abraham Lincoln, and I\nhave my own ideas as to its speed.  But this is not enough.  We must\nsee where we go.  We must be able to direct it to the right, to the\nleft, above, below.  How do you get to the great depths, where you find\nan increasing resistance, which is rated by hundreds of atmospheres?\nHow do you return to the surface of the ocean?  And how do you maintain\nyourselves in the requisite medium?  Am I asking too much?\"\n\n\"Not at all, Professor,\" replied the Captain, with some hesitation;\n\"since you may never leave this submarine boat.  Come into the saloon,\nit is our usual study, and there you will learn all you want to know\nabout the Nautilus.\"\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XII\n\nSOME FIGURES\n\nA moment after we were seated on a divan in the saloon smoking.  The\nCaptain showed me a sketch that gave the plan, section, and elevation\nof the Nautilus.  Then he began his description in these words:\n\n\"Here, M. Aronnax, are the several dimensions of the boat you are in.\nIt is an elongated cylinder with conical ends.  It is very like a cigar\nin shape, a shape already adopted in London in several constructions of\nthe same sort.  The length of this cylinder, from stem to stern, is\nexactly 232 feet, and its maximum breadth is twenty-six feet.  It is\nnot built quite like your long-voyage steamers, but its lines are\nsufficiently long, and its curves prolonged enough, to allow the water\nto slide off easily, and oppose no obstacle to its passage.  These two\ndimensions enable you to obtain by a simple calculation the surface and\ncubic contents of the Nautilus.  Its area measures 6,032 feet; and its\ncontents about 1,500 cubic yards; that is to say, when completely\nimmersed it displaces 50,000 feet of water, or weighs 1,500 tons.\n\n\"When I made the plans for this submarine vessel, I meant that\nnine-tenths should be submerged:  consequently it ought only to\ndisplace nine-tenths of its bulk, that is to say, only to weigh that\nnumber of tons.  I ought not, therefore, to have exceeded that weight,\nconstructing it on the aforesaid dimensions.\n\n\"The Nautilus is composed of two hulls, one inside, the other outside,\njoined by T-shaped irons, which render it very strong.  Indeed, owing\nto this cellular arrangement it resists like a block, as if it were\nsolid.  Its sides cannot yield; it coheres spontaneously, and not by\nthe closeness of its rivets; and its perfect union of the materials\nenables it to defy the roughest seas.\n\n\"These two hulls are composed of steel plates, whose density is from .7\nto .8 that of water.  The first is not less than two inches and a half\nthick and weighs 394 tons.  The second envelope, the keel, twenty\ninches high and ten thick, weighs only sixty-two tons.  The engine, the\nballast, the several accessories and apparatus appendages, the\npartitions and bulkheads, weigh 961.62 tons.  Do you follow all this?\"\n\n\"I do.\"\n\n\"Then, when the Nautilus is afloat under these circumstances, one-tenth\nis out of the water.  Now, if I have made reservoirs of a size equal to\nthis tenth, or capable of holding 150 tons, and if I fill them with\nwater, the boat, weighing then 1,507 tons, will be completely immersed.\nThat would happen, Professor.  These reservoirs are in the lower part\nof the Nautilus.  I turn on taps and they fill, and the vessel sinks\nthat had just been level with the surface.\"\n\n\"Well, Captain, but now we come to the real difficulty.  I can\nunderstand your rising to the surface; but, diving below the surface,\ndoes not your submarine contrivance encounter a pressure, and\nconsequently undergo an upward thrust of one atmosphere for every\nthirty feet of water, just about fifteen pounds per square inch?\"\n\n\"Just so, sir.\"\n\n\"Then, unless you quite fill the Nautilus, I do not see how you can\ndraw it down to those depths.\"\n\n\"Professor, you must not confound statics with dynamics or you will be\nexposed to grave errors.  There is very little labour spent in\nattaining the lower regions of the ocean, for all bodies have a\ntendency to sink.  When I wanted to find out the necessary increase of\nweight required to sink the Nautilus, I had only to calculate the\nreduction of volume that sea-water acquires according to the depth.\"\n\n\"That is evident.\"\n\n\"Now, if water is not absolutely incompressible, it is at least capable\nof very slight compression.  Indeed, after the most recent calculations\nthis reduction is only .000436 of an atmosphere for each thirty feet of\ndepth.  If we want to sink 3,000 feet, I should keep account of the\nreduction of bulk under a pressure equal to that of a column of water\nof a thousand feet.  The calculation is easily verified.  Now, I have\nsupplementary reservoirs capable of holding a hundred tons.  Therefore\nI can sink to a considerable depth.  When I wish to rise to the level\nof the sea, I only let off the water, and empty all the reservoirs if I\nwant the Nautilus to emerge from the tenth part of her total capacity.\"\n\nI had nothing to object to these reasonings.\n\n\"I admit your calculations, Captain,\" I replied; \"I should be wrong to\ndispute them since daily experience confirms them; but I foresee a real\ndifficulty in the way.\"\n\n\"What, sir?\"\n\n\"When you are about 1,000 feet deep, the walls of the Nautilus bear a\npressure of 100 atmospheres.  If, then, just now you were to empty the\nsupplementary reservoirs, to lighten the vessel, and to go up to the\nsurface, the pumps must overcome the pressure of 100 atmospheres, which\nis 1,500 lbs.  per square inch.  From that a power----\"\n\n\"That electricity alone can give,\" said the Captain, hastily.  \"I\nrepeat, sir, that the dynamic power of my engines is almost infinite.\nThe pumps of the Nautilus have an enormous power, as you must have\nobserved when their jets of water burst like a torrent upon the Abraham\nLincoln.  Besides, I use subsidiary reservoirs only to attain a mean\ndepth of 750 to 1,000 fathoms, and that with a view of managing my\nmachines.  Also, when I have a mind to visit the depths of the ocean\nfive or six mlles below the surface, I make use of slower but not less\ninfallible means.\"\n\n\"What are they, Captain?\"\n\n\"That involves my telling you how the Nautilus is worked.\"\n\n\"I am impatient to learn.\"\n\n\"To steer this boat to starboard or port, to turn, in a word, following\na horizontal plan, I use an ordinary rudder fixed on the back of the\nstern-post, and with one wheel and some tackle to steer by.  But I can\nalso make the Nautilus rise and sink, and sink and rise, by a vertical\nmovement by means of two inclined planes fastened to its sides,\nopposite the centre of flotation, planes that move in every direction,\nand that are worked by powerful levers from the interior.  If the\nplanes are kept parallel with the boat, it moves horizontally.  If\nslanted, the Nautilus, according to this inclination, and under the\ninfluence of the screw, either sinks diagonally or rises diagonally as\nit suits me.  And even if I wish to rise more quickly to the surface, I\nship the screw, and the pressure of the water causes the Nautilus to\nrise vertically like a balloon filled with hydrogen.\"\n\n\"Bravo, Captain!  But how can the steersman follow the route in the\nmiddle of the waters?\"\n\n\"The steersman is placed in a glazed box, that is raised about the hull\nof the Nautilus, and furnished with lenses.\"\n\n\"Are these lenses capable of resisting such pressure?\"\n\n\"Perfectly.  Glass, which breaks at a blow, is, nevertheless, capable\nof offering considerable resistance.  During some experiments of\nfishing by electric light in 1864 in the Northern Seas, we saw plates\nless than a third of an inch thick resist a pressure of sixteen\natmospheres.  Now, the glass that I use is not less than thirty times\nthicker.\"\n\n\"Granted.  But, after all, in order to see, the light must exceed the\ndarkness, and in the midst of the darkness in the water, how can you\nsee?\"\n\n\"Behind the steersman's cage is placed a powerful electric reflector,\nthe rays from which light up the sea for half a mile in front.\"\n\n\"Ah! bravo, bravo, Captain!  Now I can account for this phosphorescence\nin the supposed narwhal that puzzled us so.  I now ask you if the\nboarding of the Nautilus and of the Scotia, that has made such a noise,\nhas been the result of a chance rencontre?\"\n\n\"Quite accidental, sir.  I was sailing only one fathom below the\nsurface of the water when the shock came.  It had no bad result.\"\n\n\"None, sir.  But now, about your rencontre with the Abraham Lincoln?\"\n\n\"Professor, I am sorry for one of the best vessels in the American\nnavy; but they attacked me, and I was bound to defend myself.  I\ncontented myself, however, with putting the frigate hors de combat; she\nwill not have any difficulty in getting repaired at the next port.\"\n\n\"Ah, Commander! your Nautilus is certainly a marvellous boat.\"\n\n\"Yes, Professor; and I love it as if it were part of myself.  If danger\nthreatens one of your vessels on the ocean, the first impression is the\nfeeling of an abyss above and below.  On the Nautilus men's hearts\nnever fail them.  No defects to be afraid of, for the double shell is\nas firm as iron; no rigging to attend to; no sails for the wind to\ncarry away; no boilers to burst; no fire to fear, for the vessel is\nmade of iron, not of wood; no coal to run short, for electricity is the\nonly mechanical agent; no collision to fear, for it alone swims in deep\nwater; no tempest to brave, for when it dives below the water it\nreaches absolute tranquillity.  There, sir! that is the perfection of\nvessels!  And if it is true that the engineer has more confidence in\nthe vessel than the builder, and the builder than the captain himself,\nyou understand the trust I repose in my Nautilus; for I am at once\ncaptain, builder, and engineer.\"\n\n\"But how could you construct this wonderful Nautilus in secret?\"\n\n\"Each separate portion, M. Aronnax, was brought from different parts of\nthe globe.\"\n\n\"But these parts had to be put together and arranged?\"\n\n\"Professor, I had set up my workshops upon a desert island in the\nocean.  There my workmen, that is to say, the brave men that I\ninstructed and educated, and myself have put together our Nautilus.\nThen, when the work was finished, fire destroyed all trace of our\nproceedings on this island, that I could have jumped over if I had\nliked.\"\n\n\"Then the cost of this vessel is great?\"\n\n\"M. Aronnax, an iron vessel costs L145 per ton.  Now the Nautilus\nweighed 1,500. It came therefore to L67,500, and L80,000 more for\nfitting it up, and about L200,000, with the works of art and the\ncollections it contains.\"\n\n\"One last question, Captain Nemo.\"\n\n\"Ask it, Professor.\"\n\n\"You are rich?\"\n\n\"Immensely rich, sir; and I could, without missing it, pay the national\ndebt of France.\"\n\nI stared at the singular person who spoke thus.  Was he playing upon my\ncredulity?  The future would decide that.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XIII\n\nTHE BLACK RIVER\n\nThe portion of the terrestrial globe which is covered by water is\nestimated at upwards of eighty millions of acres.  This fluid mass\ncomprises two billions two hundred and fifty millions of cubic miles,\nforming a spherical body of a diameter of sixty leagues, the weight of\nwhich would be three quintillions of tons.  To comprehend the meaning\nof these figures, it is necessary to observe that a quintillion is to a\nbillion as a billion is to unity; in other words, there are as many\nbillions in a quintillion as there are units in a billion.  This mass\nof fluid is equal to about the quantity of water which would be\ndischarged by all the rivers of the earth in forty thousand years.\n\nDuring the geological epochs the ocean originally prevailed everywhere.\nThen by degrees, in the silurian period, the tops of the mountains\nbegan to appear, the islands emerged, then disappeared in partial\ndeluges, reappeared, became settled, formed continents, till at length\nthe earth became geographically arranged, as we see in the present day.\nThe solid had wrested from the liquid thirty-seven million six hundred\nand fifty-seven square miles, equal to twelve billions nine hundred and\nsixty millions of acres.\n\nThe shape of continents allows us to divide the waters into five great\nportions:  the Arctic or Frozen Ocean, the Antarctic, or Frozen Ocean,\nthe Indian, the Atlantic, and the Pacific Oceans.\n\nThe Pacific Ocean extends from north to south between the two Polar\nCircles, and from east to west between Asia and America, over an extent\nof 145 degrees of longitude.  It is the quietest of seas; its currents\nare broad and slow, it has medium tides, and abundant rain.  Such was\nthe ocean that my fate destined me first to travel over under these\nstrange conditions.\n\n\"Sir,\" said Captain Nemo, \"we will, if you please, take our bearings\nand fix the starting-point of this voyage.  It is a quarter to twelve;\nI will go up again to the surface.\"\n\nThe Captain pressed an electric clock three times.  The pumps began to\ndrive the water from the tanks; the needle of the manometer marked by a\ndifferent pressure the ascent of the Nautilus, then it stopped.\n\n\"We have arrived,\" said the Captain.\n\nI went to the central staircase which opened on to the platform,\nclambered up the iron steps, and found myself on the upper part of the\nNautilus.\n\nThe platform was only three feet out of water.  The front and back of\nthe Nautilus was of that spindle-shape which caused it justly to be\ncompared to a cigar.  I noticed that its iron plates, slightly\noverlaying each other, resembled the shell which clothes the bodies of\nour large terrestrial reptiles.  It explained to me how natural it was,\nin spite of all glasses, that this boat should have been taken for a\nmarine animal.\n\nToward the middle of the platform the longboat, half buried in the hull\nof the vessel, formed a slight excrescence.  Fore and aft rose two\ncages of medium height with inclined sides, and partly closed by thick\nlenticular glasses; one destined for the steersman who directed the\nNautilus, the other containing a brilliant lantern to give light on the\nroad.\n\nThe sea was beautiful, the sky pure.  Scarcely could the long vehicle\nfeel the broad undulations of the ocean.  A light breeze from the east\nrippled the surface of the waters.  The horizon, free from fog, made\nobservation easy.  Nothing was in sight.  Not a quicksand, not an\nisland.  A vast desert.\n\nCaptain Nemo, by the help of his sextant, took the altitude of the sun,\nwhich ought also to give the latitude.  He waited for some moments till\nits disc touched the horizon.  Whilst taking observations not a muscle\nmoved, the instrument could not have been more motionless in a hand of\nmarble.\n\n\"Twelve o'clock, sir,\" said he.  \"When you like----\"\n\nI cast a last look upon the sea, slightly yellowed by the Japanese\ncoast, and descended to the saloon.\n\n\"And now, sir, I leave you to your studies,\" added the Captain; \"our\ncourse is E.N.E., our depth is twenty-six fathoms.  Here are maps on a\nlarge scale by which you may follow it.  The saloon is at your\ndisposal, and, with your permission, I will retire.\"  Captain Nemo\nbowed, and I remained alone, lost in thoughts all bearing on the\ncommander of the Nautilus.\n\nFor a whole hour was I deep in these reflections, seeking to pierce\nthis mystery so interesting to me.  Then my eyes fell upon the vast\nplanisphere spread upon the table, and I placed my finger on the very\nspot where the given latitude and longitude crossed.\n\nThe sea has its large rivers like the continents.  They are special\ncurrents known by their temperature and their colour.  The most\nremarkable of these is known by the name of the Gulf Stream.  Science\nhas decided on the globe the direction of five principal currents: one\nin the North Atlantic, a second in the South, a third in the North\nPacific, a fourth in the South, and a fifth in the Southern Indian\nOcean.  It is even probable that a sixth current existed at one time or\nanother in the Northern Indian Ocean, when the Caspian and Aral Seas\nformed but one vast sheet of water.\n\nAt this point indicated on the planisphere one of these currents was\nrolling, the Kuro-Scivo of the Japanese, the Black River, which,\nleaving the Gulf of Bengal, where it is warmed by the perpendicular\nrays of a tropical sun, crosses the Straits of Malacca along the coast\nof Asia, turns into the North Pacific to the Aleutian Islands, carrying\nwith it trunks of camphor-trees and other indigenous productions, and\nedging the waves of the ocean with the pure indigo of its warm water.\nIt was this current that the Nautilus was to follow.  I followed it\nwith my eye; saw it lose itself in the vastness of the Pacific, and\nfelt myself drawn with it, when Ned Land and Conseil appeared at the\ndoor of the saloon.\n\nMy two brave companions remained petrified at the sight of the wonders\nspread before them.\n\n\"Where are we, where are we?\" exclaimed the Canadian.  \"In the museum\nat Quebec?\"\n\n\"My friends,\" I answered, making a sign for them to enter, \"you are not\nin Canada, but on board the Nautilus, fifty yards below the level of\nthe sea.\"\n\n\"But, M. Aronnax,\" said Ned Land, \"can you tell me how many men there\nare on board?  Ten, twenty, fifty, a hundred?\"\n\n\"I cannot answer you, Mr. Land; it is better to abandon for a time all\nidea of seizing the Nautilus or escaping from it.  This ship is a\nmasterpiece of modern industry, and I should be sorry not to have seen\nit.  Many people would accept the situation forced upon us, if only to\nmove amongst such wonders.  So be quiet and let us try and see what\npasses around us.\"\n\n\"See!\" exclaimed the harpooner, \"but we can see nothing in this iron\nprison!  We are walking--we are sailing--blindly.\"\n\nNed Land had scarcely pronounced these words when all was suddenly\ndarkness.  The luminous ceiling was gone, and so rapidly that my eyes\nreceived a painful impression.\n\nWe remained mute, not stirring, and not knowing what surprise awaited\nus, whether agreeable or disagreeable.  A sliding noise was heard: one\nwould have said that panels were working at the sides of the Nautilus.\n\n\"It is the end of the end!\" said Ned Land.\n\nSuddenly light broke at each side of the saloon, through two oblong\nopenings.  The liquid mass appeared vividly lit up by the electric\ngleam.  Two crystal plates separated us from the sea.  At first I\ntrembled at the thought that this frail partition might break, but\nstrong bands of copper bound them, giving an almost infinite power of\nresistance.\n\nThe sea was distinctly visible for a mile all round the Nautilus.  What\na spectacle!  What pen can describe it?  Who could paint the effects of\nthe light through those transparent sheets of water, and the softness\nof the successive gradations from the lower to the superior strata of\nthe ocean?\n\nWe know the transparency of the sea and that its clearness is far\nbeyond that of rock-water. The mineral and organic substances which it\nholds in suspension heightens its transparency.  In certain parts of\nthe ocean at the Antilles, under seventy-five fathoms of water, can be\nseen with surprising clearness a bed of sand.  The penetrating power of\nthe solar rays does not seem to cease for a depth of one hundred and\nfifty fathoms.  But in this middle fluid travelled over by the\nNautilus, the electric brightness was produced even in the bosom of the\nwaves.  It was no longer luminous water, but liquid light.\n\nOn each side a window opened into this unexplored abyss.  The obscurity\nof the saloon showed to advantage the brightness outside, and we looked\nout as if this pure crystal had been the glass of an immense aquarium.\n\n\"You wished to see, friend Ned; well, you see now.\"\n\n\"Curious! curious!\" muttered the Canadian, who, forgetting his\nill-temper, seemed to submit to some irresistible attraction; \"and one\nwould come further than this to admire such a sight!\"\n\n\"Ah!\" thought I to myself, \"I understand the life of this man; he has\nmade a world apart for himself, in which he treasures all his greatest\nwonders.\"\n\nFor two whole hours an aquatic army escorted the Nautilus.  During\ntheir games, their bounds, while rivalling each other in beauty,\nbrightness, and velocity, I distinguished the green labre; the banded\nmullet, marked by a double line of black; the round-tailed goby, of a\nwhite colour, with violet spots on the back; the Japanese scombrus, a\nbeautiful mackerel of these seas, with a blue body and silvery head;\nthe brilliant azurors, whose name alone defies description; some banded\nspares, with variegated fins of blue and yellow; the woodcocks of the\nseas, some specimens of which attain a yard in length; Japanese\nsalamanders, spider lampreys, serpents six feet long, with eyes small\nand lively, and a huge mouth bristling with teeth; with many other\nspecies.\n\nOur imagination was kept at its height, interjections followed quickly\non each other.  Ned named the fish, and Conseil classed them.  I was in\necstasies with the vivacity of their movements and the beauty of their\nforms.  Never had it been given to me to surprise these animals, alive\nand at liberty, in their natural element.  I will not mention all the\nvarieties which passed before my dazzled eyes, all the collection of\nthe seas of China and Japan.  These fish, more numerous than the birds\nof the air, came, attracted, no doubt, by the brilliant focus of the\nelectric light.\n\nSuddenly there was daylight in the saloon, the iron panels closed\nagain, and the enchanting vision disappeared.  But for a long time I\ndreamt on, till my eyes fell on the instruments hanging on the\npartition.  The compass still showed the course to be E.N.E., the\nmanometer indicated a pressure of five atmospheres, equivalent to a\ndepth of twenty five fathoms, and the electric log gave a speed of\nfifteen miles an hour.  I expected Captain Nemo, but he did not appear.\nThe clock marked the hour of five.\n\nNed Land and Conseil returned to their cabin, and I retired to my\nchamber.  My dinner was ready.  It was composed of turtle soup made of\nthe most delicate hawks bills, of a surmullet served with puff paste\n(the liver of which, prepared by itself, was most delicious), and\nfillets of the emperor-holocanthus, the savour of which seemed to me\nsuperior even to salmon.\n\nI passed the evening reading, writing, and thinking.  Then sleep\noverpowered me, and I stretched myself on my couch of zostera, and\nslept profoundly, whilst the Nautilus was gliding rapidly through the\ncurrent of the Black River.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XIV\n\nA NOTE OF INVITATION\n\nThe next day was the 9th of November.  I awoke after a long sleep of\ntwelve hours.  Conseil came, according to custom, to know \"how I passed\nthe night,\" and to offer his services.  He had left his friend the\nCanadian sleeping like a man who had never done anything else all his\nlife.  I let the worthy fellow chatter as he pleased, without caring to\nanswer him.  I was preoccupied by the absence of the Captain during our\nsitting of the day before, and hoping to see him to-day.\n\nAs soon as I was dressed I went into the saloon.  It was deserted.  I\nplunged into the study of the shell treasures hidden behind the glasses.\n\nThe whole day passed without my being honoured by a visit from Captain\nNemo.  The panels of the saloon did not open.  Perhaps they did not\nwish us to tire of these beautiful things.\n\nThe course of the Nautilus was E.N.E., her speed twelve knots, the\ndepth below the surface between twenty-five and thirty fathoms.\n\nThe next day, 10th of November, the same desertion, the same solitude.\nI did not see one of the ship's crew: Ned and Conseil spent the greater\npart of the day with me.  They were astonished at the puzzling absence\nof the Captain.  Was this singular man ill?--had he altered his\nintentions with regard to us?\n\nAfter all, as Conseil said, we enjoyed perfect liberty, we were\ndelicately and abundantly fed.  Our host kept to his terms of the\ntreaty.  We could not complain, and, indeed, the singularity of our\nfate reserved such wonderful compensation for us that we had no right\nto accuse it as yet.\n\nThat day I commenced the journal of these adventures which has enabled\nme to relate them with more scrupulous exactitude and minute detail.\n\n11th November, early in the morning.  The fresh air spreading over the\ninterior of the Nautilus told me that we had come to the surface of the\nocean to renew our supply of oxygen.  I directed my steps to the\ncentral staircase, and mounted the platform.\n\nIt was six o'clock, the weather was cloudy, the sea grey, but calm.\nScarcely a billow.  Captain Nemo, whom I hoped to meet, would he be\nthere?  I saw no one but the steersman imprisoned in his glass cage.\nSeated upon the projection formed by the hull of the pinnace, I inhaled\nthe salt breeze with delight.\n\nBy degrees the fog disappeared under the action of the sun's rays, the\nradiant orb rose from behind the eastern horizon.  The sea flamed under\nits glance like a train of gunpowder.  The clouds scattered in the\nheights were coloured with lively tints of beautiful shades, and\nnumerous \"mare's tails,\" which betokened wind for that day.  But what\nwas wind to this Nautilus, which tempests could not frighten!\n\nI was admiring this joyous rising of the sun, so gay, and so\nlife-giving, when I heard steps approaching the platform.  I was\nprepared to salute Captain Nemo, but it was his second (whom I had\nalready seen on the Captain's first visit) who appeared.  He advanced\non the platform, not seeming to see me.  With his powerful glass to his\neye, he scanned every point of the horizon with great attention.  This\nexamination over, he approached the panel and pronounced a sentence in\nexactly these terms.  I have remembered it, for every morning it was\nrepeated under exactly the same conditions.  It was thus worded:\n\n\"Nautron respoc lorni virch.\"\n\nWhat it meant I could not say.\n\nThese words pronounced, the second descended.  I thought that the\nNautilus was about to return to its submarine navigation.  I regained\nthe panel and returned to my chamber.\n\nFive days sped thus, without any change in our situation.  Every\nmorning I mounted the platform.  The same phrase was pronounced by the\nsame individual.  But Captain Nemo did not appear.\n\nI had made up my mind that I should never see him again, when, on the\n16th November, on returning to my room with Ned and Conseil, I found\nupon my table a note addressed to me.  I opened it impatiently.  It was\nwritten in a bold, clear hand, the characters rather pointed, recalling\nthe German type.  The note was worded as follows:\n\n\nTO PROFESSOR ARONNAX, On board the Nautilus.  16th of November, 1867.\n\nCaptain Nemo invites Professor Aronnax to a hunting-party, which will\ntake place to-morrow morning in the forests of the Island of Crespo.\nHe hopes that nothing will prevent the Professor from being present,\nand he will with pleasure see him joined by his companions.\n\nCAPTAIN NEMO, Commander of the Nautilus.\n\n\n\"A hunt!\" exclaimed Ned.\n\n\"And in the forests of the Island of Crespo!\" added Conseil.\n\n\"Oh! then the gentleman is going on terra firma?\" replied Ned Land.\n\n\"That seems to me to be clearly indicated,\" said I, reading the letter\nonce more.\n\n\"Well, we must accept,\" said the Canadian.  \"But once more on dry\nground, we shall know what to do.  Indeed, I shall not be sorry to eat\na piece of fresh venison.\"\n\nWithout seeking to reconcile what was contradictory between Captain\nNemo's manifest aversion to islands and continents, and his invitation\nto hunt in a forest, I contented myself with replying:\n\n\"Let us first see where the Island of Crespo is.\"\n\nI consulted the planisphere, and in 32° 40' N. lat. and 157°\n50' W. long., I found a small island, recognised in 1801 by Captain\nCrespo, and marked in the ancient Spanish maps as Rocca de la Plata,\nthe meaning of which is The Silver Rock.  We were then about eighteen\nhundred miles from our starting-point, and the course of the Nautilus,\na little changed, was bringing it back towards the southeast.\n\nI showed this little rock, lost in the midst of the North Pacific, to\nmy companions.\n\n\"If Captain Nemo does sometimes go on dry ground,\" said I, \"he at least\nchooses desert islands.\"\n\nNed Land shrugged his shoulders without speaking, and Conseil and he\nleft me.\n\nAfter supper, which was served by the steward, mute and impassive, I\nwent to bed, not without some anxiety.\n\nThe next morning, the 17th of November, on awakening, I felt that the\nNautilus was perfectly still.  I dressed quickly and entered the saloon.\n\nCaptain Nemo was there, waiting for me.  He rose, bowed, and asked me\nif it was convenient for me to accompany him.  As he made no allusion\nto his absence during the last eight days, I did not mention it, and\nsimply answered that my companions and myself were ready to follow him.\n\nWe entered the dining-room, where breakfast was served.\n\n\"M. Aronnax,\" said the Captain, \"pray, share my breakfast without\nceremony; we will chat as we eat.  For, though I promised you a walk in\nthe forest, I did not undertake to find hotels there.  So breakfast as\na man who will most likely not have his dinner till very late.\"\n\nI did honour to the repast.  It was composed of several kinds of fish,\nand slices of sea-cucumber, and different sorts of seaweed.  Our drink\nconsisted of pure water, to which the Captain added some drops of a\nfermented liquor, extracted by the Kamschatcha method from a seaweed\nknown under the name of Rhodomenia palmata.  Captain Nemo ate at first\nwithout saying a word.  Then he began:\n\n\"Sir, when I proposed to you to hunt in my submarine forest of Crespo,\nyou evidently thought me mad.  Sir, you should never judge lightly of\nany man.\"\n\n\"But Captain, believe me----\"\n\n\"Be kind enough to listen, and you will then see whether you have any\ncause to accuse me of folly and contradiction.\"\n\n\"I listen.\"\n\n\"You know as well as I do, Professor, that man can live under water,\nproviding he carries with him a sufficient supply of breathable air.\nIn submarine works, the workman, clad in an impervious dress, with his\nhead in a metal helmet, receives air from above by means of forcing\npumps and regulators.\"\n\n\"That is a diving apparatus,\" said I.\n\n\"Just so, but under these conditions the man is not at liberty; he is\nattached to the pump which sends him air through an india-rubber tube,\nand if we were obliged to be thus held to the Nautilus, we could not go\nfar.\"\n\n\"And the means of getting free?\"  I asked.\n\n\"It is to use the Rouquayrol apparatus, invented by two of your own\ncountrymen, which I have brought to perfection for my own use, and\nwhich will allow you to risk yourself under these new physiological\nconditions without any organ whatever suffering.  It consists of a\nreservoir of thick iron plates, in which I store the air under a\npressure of fifty atmospheres.  This reservoir is fixed on the back by\nmeans of braces, like a soldier's knapsack.  Its upper part forms a box\nin which the air is kept by means of a bellows, and therefore cannot\nescape unless at its normal tension.  In the Rouquayrol apparatus such\nas we use, two india rubber pipes leave this box and join a sort of\ntent which holds the nose and mouth; one is to introduce fresh air, the\nother to let out the foul, and the tongue closes one or the other\naccording to the wants of the respirator.  But I, in encountering great\npressures at the bottom of the sea, was obliged to shut my head, like\nthat of a diver in a ball of copper; and it is to this ball of copper\nthat the two pipes, the inspirator and the expirator, open.\"\n\n\"Perfectly, Captain Nemo; but the air that you carry with you must soon\nbe used; when it only contains fifteen per cent.  of oxygen it is no\nlonger fit to breathe.\"\n\n\"Right!  But I told you, M. Aronnax, that the pumps of the Nautilus\nallow me to store the air under considerable pressure, and on those\nconditions the reservoir of the apparatus can furnish breathable air\nfor nine or ten hours.\"\n\n\"I have no further objections to make,\" I answered.  \"I will only ask\nyou one thing, Captain--how can you light your road at the bottom of\nthe sea?\"\n\n\"With the Ruhmkorff apparatus, M. Aronnax; one is carried on the back,\nthe other is fastened to the waist.  It is composed of a Bunsen pile,\nwhich I do not work with bichromate of potash, but with sodium.  A wire\nis introduced which collects the electricity produced, and directs it\ntowards a particularly made lantern.  In this lantern is a spiral glass\nwhich contains a small quantity of carbonic gas.  When the apparatus is\nat work this gas becomes luminous, giving out a white and continuous\nlight.  Thus provided, I can breathe and I can see.\"\n\n\"Captain Nemo, to all my objections you make such crushing answers that\nI dare no longer doubt.  But, if I am forced to admit the Rouquayrol\nand Ruhmkorff apparatus, I must be allowed some reservations with\nregard to the gun I am to carry.\"\n\n\"But it is not a gun for powder,\" answered the Captain.\n\n\"Then it is an air-gun.\"\n\n\"Doubtless!  How would you have me manufacture gun powder on board,\nwithout either saltpetre, sulphur, or charcoal?\"\n\n\"Besides,\" I added, \"to fire under water in a medium eight hundred and\nfifty-five times denser than the air, we must conquer very considerable\nresistance.\"\n\n\"That would be no difficulty.  There exist guns, according to Fulton,\nperfected in England by Philip Coles and Burley, in France by Furcy,\nand in Italy by Landi, which are furnished with a peculiar system of\nclosing, which can fire under these conditions.  But I repeat, having\nno powder, I use air under great pressure, which the pumps of the\nNautilus furnish abundantly.\"\n\n\"But this air must be rapidly used?\"\n\n\"Well, have I not my Rouquayrol reservoir, which can furnish it at\nneed?  A tap is all that is required.  Besides M. Aronnax, you must see\nyourself that, during our submarine hunt, we can spend but little air\nand but few balls.\"\n\n\"But it seems to me that in this twilight, and in the midst of this\nfluid, which is very dense compared with the atmosphere, shots could\nnot go far, nor easily prove mortal.\"\n\n\"Sir, on the contrary, with this gun every blow is mortal; and, however\nlightly the animal is touched, it falls as if struck by a thunderbolt.\"\n\n\"Why?\"\n\n\"Because the balls sent by this gun are not ordinary balls, but little\ncases of glass.  These glass cases are covered with a case of steel,\nand weighted with a pellet of lead; they are real Leyden bottles, into\nwhich the electricity is forced to a very high tension.  With the\nslightest shock they are discharged, and the animal, however strong it\nmay be, falls dead.  I must tell you that these cases are size number\nfour, and that the charge for an ordinary gun would be ten.\"\n\n\"I will argue no longer,\" I replied, rising from the table.  \"I have\nnothing left me but to take my gun.  At all events, I will go where you\ngo.\"\n\nCaptain Nemo then led me aft; and in passing before Ned's and Conseil's\ncabin, I called my two companions, who followed promptly.  We then came\nto a cell near the machinery-room, in which we put on our walking-dress.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XV\n\nA WALK ON THE BOTTOM OF THE SEA\n\nThis cell was, to speak correctly, the arsenal and wardrobe of the\nNautilus.  A dozen diving apparatuses hung from the partition waiting\nour use.\n\nNed Land, on seeing them, showed evident repugnance to dress himself in\none.\n\n\"But, my worthy Ned, the forests of the Island of Crespo are nothing\nbut submarine forests.\"\n\n\"Good!\" said the disappointed harpooner, who saw his dreams of fresh\nmeat fade away.  \"And you, M. Aronnax, are you going to dress yourself\nin those clothes?\"\n\n\"There is no alternative, Master Ned.\"\n\n\"As you please, sir,\" replied the harpooner, shrugging his shoulders;\n\"but, as for me, unless I am forced, I will never get into one.\"\n\n\"No one will force you, Master Ned,\" said Captain Nemo.\n\n\"Is Conseil going to risk it?\" asked Ned.\n\n\"I follow my master wherever he goes,\" replied Conseil.\n\nAt the Captain's call two of the ship's crew came to help us dress in\nthese heavy and impervious clothes, made of india-rubber without seam,\nand constructed expressly to resist considerable pressure.  One would\nhave thought it a suit of armour, both supple and resisting.  This suit\nformed trousers and waistcoat.  The trousers were finished off with\nthick boots, weighted with heavy leaden soles.  The texture of the\nwaistcoat was held together by bands of copper, which crossed the\nchest, protecting it from the great pressure of the water, and leaving\nthe lungs free to act; the sleeves ended in gloves, which in no way\nrestrained the movement of the hands.  There was a vast difference\nnoticeable between these consummate apparatuses and the old cork\nbreastplates, jackets, and other contrivances in vogue during the\neighteenth century.\n\nCaptain Nemo and one of his companions (a sort of Hercules, who must\nhave possessed great strength), Conseil and myself were soon enveloped\nin the dresses.  There remained nothing more to be done but to enclose\nour heads in the metal box.  But, before proceeding to this operation,\nI asked the Captain's permission to examine the guns.\n\nOne of the Nautilus men gave me a simple gun, the butt end of which,\nmade of steel, hollow in the centre, was rather large.  It served as a\nreservoir for compressed air, which a valve, worked by a spring,\nallowed to escape into a metal tube.  A box of projectiles in a groove\nin the thickness of the butt end contained about twenty of these\nelectric balls, which, by means of a spring, were forced into the\nbarrel of the gun.  As soon as one shot was fired, another was ready.\n\n\"Captain Nemo,\" said I, \"this arm is perfect, and easily handled: I\nonly ask to be allowed to try it.  But how shall we gain the bottom of\nthe sea?\"\n\n\"At this moment, Professor, the Nautilus is stranded in five fathoms,\nand we have nothing to do but to start.\"\n\n\"But how shall we get off?\"\n\n\"You shall see.\"\n\nCaptain Nemo thrust his head into the helmet, Conseil and I did the\nsame, not without hearing an ironical \"Good sport!\" from the Canadian.\nThe upper part of our dress terminated in a copper collar upon which\nwas screwed the metal helmet.  Three holes, protected by thick glass,\nallowed us to see in all directions, by simply turning our head in the\ninterior of the head-dress. As soon as it was in position, the\nRouquayrol apparatus on our backs began to act; and, for my part, I\ncould breathe with ease.\n\nWith the Ruhmkorff lamp hanging from my belt, and the gun in my hand, I\nwas ready to set out.  But to speak the truth, imprisoned in these\nheavy garments, and glued to the deck by my leaden soles, it was\nimpossible for me to take a step.\n\nBut this state of things was provided for.  I felt myself being pushed\ninto a little room contiguous to the wardrobe room.  My companions\nfollowed, towed along in the same way.  I heard a water-tight door,\nfurnished with stopper plates, close upon us, and we were wrapped in\nprofound darkness.\n\nAfter some minutes, a loud hissing was heard.  I felt the cold mount\nfrom my feet to my chest.  Evidently from some part of the vessel they\nhad, by means of a tap, given entrance to the water, which was invading\nus, and with which the room was soon filled.  A second door cut in the\nside of the Nautilus then opened.  We saw a faint light.  In another\ninstant our feet trod the bottom of the sea.\n\nAnd now, how can I retrace the impression left upon me by that walk\nunder the waters?  Words are impotent to relate such wonders!  Captain\nNemo walked in front, his companion followed some steps behind.\nConseil and I remained near each other, as if an exchange of words had\nbeen possible through our metallic cases.  I no longer felt the weight\nof my clothing, or of my shoes, of my reservoir of air, or my thick\nhelmet, in the midst of which my head rattled like an almond in its\nshell.\n\nThe light, which lit the soil thirty feet below the surface of the\nocean, astonished me by its power.  The solar rays shone through the\nwatery mass easily, and dissipated all colour, and I clearly\ndistinguished objects at a distance of a hundred and fifty yards.\nBeyond that the tints darkened into fine gradations of ultramarine, and\nfaded into vague obscurity.  Truly this water which surrounded me was\nbut another air denser than the terrestrial atmosphere, but almost as\ntransparent.  Above me was the calm surface of the sea.  We were\nwalking on fine, even sand, not wrinkled, as on a flat shore, which\nretains the impression of the billows.  This dazzling carpet, really a\nreflector, repelled the rays of the sun with wonderful intensity, which\naccounted for the vibration which penetrated every atom of liquid.\nShall I be believed when I say that, at the depth of thirty feet, I\ncould see as if I was in broad daylight?\n\nFor a quarter of an hour I trod on this sand, sown with the impalpable\ndust of shells.  The hull of the Nautilus, resembling a long shoal,\ndisappeared by degrees; but its lantern, when darkness should overtake\nus in the waters, would help to guide us on board by its distinct rays.\n\nSoon forms of objects outlined in the distance were discernible.  I\nrecognised magnificent rocks, hung with a tapestry of zoophytes of the\nmost beautiful kind, and I was at first struck by the peculiar effect\nof this medium.\n\nIt was then ten in the morning; the rays of the sun struck the surface\nof the waves at rather an oblique angle, and at the touch of their\nlight, decomposed by refraction as through a prism, flowers, rocks,\nplants, shells, and polypi were shaded at the edges by the seven solar\ncolours.  It was marvellous, a feast for the eyes, this complication of\ncoloured tints, a perfect kaleidoscope of green, yellow, orange,\nviolet, indigo, and blue; in one word, the whole palette of an\nenthusiastic colourist!  Why could I not communicate to Conseil the\nlively sensations which were mounting to my brain, and rival him in\nexpressions of admiration?  For aught I knew, Captain Nemo and his\ncompanion might be able to exchange thoughts by means of signs\npreviously agreed upon.  So, for want of better, I talked to myself; I\ndeclaimed in the copper box which covered my head, thereby expending\nmore air in vain words than was perhaps wise.\n\nVarious kinds of isis, clusters of pure tuft-coral, prickly fungi, and\nanemones formed a brilliant garden of flowers, decked with their\ncollarettes of blue tentacles, sea-stars studding the sandy bottom.  It\nwas a real grief to me to crush under my feet the brilliant specimens\nof molluscs which strewed the ground by thousands, of hammerheads,\ndonaciae (veritable bounding shells), of staircases, and red\nhelmet-shells, angel-wings, and many others produced by this\ninexhaustible ocean.  But we were bound to walk, so we went on, whilst\nabove our heads waved medusae whose umbrellas of opal or rose-pink,\nescalloped with a band of blue, sheltered us from the rays of the sun\nand fiery pelagiae, which, in the darkness, would have strewn our path\nwith phosphorescent light.\n\nAll these wonders I saw in the space of a quarter of a mile, scarcely\nstopping, and following Captain Nemo, who beckoned me on by signs.\nSoon the nature of the soil changed; to the sandy plain succeeded an\nextent of slimy mud which the Americans call \"ooze,\" composed of equal\nparts of silicious and calcareous shells.  We then travelled over a\nplain of seaweed of wild and luxuriant vegetation.  This sward was of\nclose texture, and soft to the feet, and rivalled the softest carpet\nwoven by the hand of man.  But whilst verdure was spread at our feet,\nit did not abandon our heads.  A light network of marine plants, of\nthat inexhaustible family of seaweeds of which more than two thousand\nkinds are known, grew on the surface of the water.\n\nI noticed that the green plants kept nearer the top of the sea, whilst\nthe red were at a greater depth, leaving to the black or brown the care\nof forming gardens and parterres in the remote beds of the ocean.\n\nWe had quitted the Nautilus about an hour and a half.  It was near\nnoon; I knew by the perpendicularity of the sun's rays, which were no\nlonger refracted.  The magical colours disappeared by degrees, and the\nshades of emerald and sapphire were effaced.  We walked with a regular\nstep, which rang upon the ground with astonishing intensity; the\nslightest noise was transmitted with a quickness to which the ear is\nunaccustomed on the earth; indeed, water is a better conductor of sound\nthan air, in the ratio of four to one.  At this period the earth sloped\ndownwards; the light took a uniform tint.  We were at a depth of a\nhundred and five yards and twenty inches, undergoing a pressure of six\natmospheres.\n\nAt this depth I could still see the rays of the sun, though feebly; to\ntheir intense brilliancy had succeeded a reddish twilight, the lowest\nstate between day and night; but we could still see well enough; it was\nnot necessary to resort to the Ruhmkorff apparatus as yet.  At this\nmoment Captain Nemo stopped; he waited till I joined him, and then\npointed to an obscure mass, looming in the shadow, at a short distance.\n\n\"It is the forest of the Island of Crespo,\" thought I; and I was not\nmistaken.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XVI\n\nA SUBMARINE FOREST\n\nWe had at last arrived on the borders of this forest, doubtless one of\nthe finest of Captain Nemo's immense domains.  He looked upon it as his\nown, and considered he had the same right over it that the first men\nhad in the first days of the world.  And, indeed, who would have\ndisputed with him the possession of this submarine property?  What\nother hardier pioneer would come, hatchet in hand, to cut down the dark\ncopses?\n\nThis forest was composed of large tree-plants; and the moment we\npenetrated under its vast arcades, I was struck by the singular\nposition of their branches--a position I had not yet observed.\n\nNot an herb which carpeted the ground, not a branch which clothed the\ntrees, was either broken or bent, nor did they extend horizontally; all\nstretched up to the surface of the ocean.  Not a filament, not a\nribbon, however thin they might be, but kept as straight as a rod of\niron.  The fuci and llianas grew in rigid perpendicular lines, due to\nthe density of the element which had produced them.  Motionless yet,\nwhen bent to one side by the hand, they directly resumed their former\nposition.  Truly it was the region of perpendicularity!\n\nI soon accustomed myself to this fantastic position, as well as to the\ncomparative darkness which surrounded us.  The soil of the forest\nseemed covered with sharp blocks, difficult to avoid.  The submarine\nflora struck me as being very perfect, and richer even than it would\nhave been in the arctic or tropical zones, where these productions are\nnot so plentiful.  But for some minutes I involuntarily confounded the\ngenera, taking animals for plants; and who would not have been\nmistaken?  The fauna and the flora are too closely allied in this\nsubmarine world.\n\nThese plants are self-propagated, and the principle of their existence\nis in the water, which upholds and nourishes them.  The greater number,\ninstead of leaves, shoot forth blades of capricious shapes, comprised\nwithin a scale of colours pink, carmine, green, olive, fawn, and brown.\n\n\"Curious anomaly, fantastic element!\" said an ingenious naturalist, \"in\nwhich the animal kingdom blossoms, and the vegetable does not!\"\n\nIn about an hour Captain Nemo gave the signal to halt; I, for my part,\nwas not sorry, and we stretched ourselves under an arbour of alariae,\nthe long thin blades of which stood up like arrows.\n\nThis short rest seemed delicious to me; there was nothing wanting but\nthe charm of conversation; but, impossible to speak, impossible to\nanswer, I only put my great copper head to Conseil's.  I saw the worthy\nfellow's eyes glistening with delight, and, to show his satisfaction,\nhe shook himself in his breastplate of air, in the most comical way in\nthe world.\n\nAfter four hours of this walking, I was surprised not to find myself\ndreadfully hungry.  How to account for this state of the stomach I\ncould not tell.  But instead I felt an insurmountable desire to sleep,\nwhich happens to all divers.  And my eyes soon closed behind the thick\nglasses, and I fell into a heavy slumber, which the movement alone had\nprevented before.  Captain Nemo and his robust companion, stretched in\nthe clear crystal, set us the example.\n\nHow long I remained buried in this drowsiness I cannot judge, but, when\nI woke, the sun seemed sinking towards the horizon.  Captain Nemo had\nalready risen, and I was beginning to stretch my limbs, when an\nunexpected apparition brought me briskly to my feet.\n\nA few steps off, a monstrous sea-spider, about thirty-eight inches\nhigh, was watching me with squinting eyes, ready to spring upon me.\nThough my diver's dress was thick enough to defend me from the bite of\nthis animal, I could not help shuddering with horror.  Conseil and the\nsailor of the Nautilus awoke at this moment.  Captain Nemo pointed out\nthe hideous crustacean, which a blow from the butt end of the gun\nknocked over, and I saw the horrible claws of the monster writhe in\nterrible convulsions.  This incident reminded me that other animals\nmore to be feared might haunt these obscure depths, against whose\nattacks my diving-dress would not protect me.  I had never thought of\nit before, but I now resolved to be upon my guard.  Indeed, I thought\nthat this halt would mark the termination of our walk; but I was\nmistaken, for, instead of returning to the Nautilus, Captain Nemo\ncontinued his bold excursion.  The ground was still on the incline, its\ndeclivity seemed to be getting greater, and to be leading us to greater\ndepths.  It must have been about three o'clock when we reached a narrow\nvalley, between high perpendicular walls, situated about seventy-five\nfathoms deep.  Thanks to the perfection of our apparatus, we were\nforty-five fathoms below the limit which nature seems to have imposed\non man as to his submarine excursions.\n\nI say seventy-five fathoms, though I had no instrument by which to\njudge the distance.  But I knew that even in the clearest waters the\nsolar rays could not penetrate further.  And accordingly the darkness\ndeepened.  At ten paces not an object was visible.  I was groping my\nway, when I suddenly saw a brilliant white light.  Captain Nemo had\njust put his electric apparatus into use; his companion did the same,\nand Conseil and I followed their example.  By turning a screw I\nestablished a communication between the wire and the spiral glass, and\nthe sea, lit by our four lanterns, was illuminated for a circle of\nthirty-six yards.\n\nAs we walked I thought the light of our Ruhmkorff apparatus could not\nfail to draw some inhabitant from its dark couch.  But if they did\napproach us, they at least kept at a respectful distance from the\nhunters.  Several times I saw Captain Nemo stop, put his gun to his\nshoulder, and after some moments drop it and walk on.  At last, after\nabout four hours, this marvellous excursion came to an end.  A wall of\nsuperb rocks, in an imposing mass, rose before us, a heap of gigantic\nblocks, an enormous, steep granite shore, forming dark grottos, but\nwhich presented no practicable slope; it was the prop of the Island of\nCrespo.  It was the earth!  Captain Nemo stopped suddenly.  A gesture\nof his brought us all to a halt; and, however desirous I might be to\nscale the wall, I was obliged to stop.  Here ended Captain Nemo's\ndomains.  And he would not go beyond them.  Further on was a portion of\nthe globe he might not trample upon.\n\nThe return began.  Captain Nemo had returned to the head of his little\nband, directing their course without hesitation.  I thought we were not\nfollowing the same road to return to the Nautilus.  The new road was\nvery steep, and consequently very painful.  We approached the surface\nof the sea rapidly.  But this return to the upper strata was not so\nsudden as to cause relief from the pressure too rapidly, which might\nhave produced serious disorder in our organisation, and brought on\ninternal lesions, so fatal to divers.  Very soon light reappeared and\ngrew, and, the sun being low on the horizon, the refraction edged the\ndifferent objects with a spectral ring.  At ten yards and a half deep,\nwe walked amidst a shoal of little fishes of all kinds, more numerous\nthan the birds of the air, and also more agile; but no aquatic game\nworthy of a shot had as yet met our gaze, when at that moment I saw the\nCaptain shoulder his gun quickly, and follow a moving object into the\nshrubs.  He fired; I heard a slight hissing, and a creature fell\nstunned at some distance from us.  It was a magnificent sea-otter, an\nenhydrus, the only exclusively marine quadruped.  This otter was five\nfeet long, and must have been very valuable.  Its skin, chestnut-brown\nabove and silvery underneath, would have made one of those beautiful\nfurs so sought after in the Russian and Chinese markets: the fineness\nand the lustre of its coat would certainly fetch L80.  I admired this\ncurious mammal, with its rounded head ornamented with short ears, its\nround eyes, and white whiskers like those of a cat, with webbed feet\nand nails, and tufted tail.  This precious animal, hunted and tracked\nby fishermen, has now become very rare, and taken refuge chiefly in the\nnorthern parts of the Pacific, or probably its race would soon become\nextinct.\n\nCaptain Nemo's companion took the beast, threw it over his shoulder,\nand we continued our journey.  For one hour a plain of sand lay\nstretched before us.  Sometimes it rose to within two yards and some\ninches of the surface of the water.  I then saw our image clearly\nreflected, drawn inversely, and above us appeared an identical group\nreflecting our movements and our actions; in a word, like us in every\npoint, except that they walked with their heads downward and their feet\nin the air.\n\nAnother effect I noticed, which was the passage of thick clouds which\nformed and vanished rapidly; but on reflection I understood that these\nseeming clouds were due to the varying thickness of the reeds at the\nbottom, and I could even see the fleecy foam which their broken tops\nmultiplied on the water, and the shadows of large birds passing above\nour heads, whose rapid flight I could discern on the surface of the sea.\n\nOn this occasion I was witness to one of the finest gun shots which\never made the nerves of a hunter thrill.  A large bird of great breadth\nof wing, clearly visible, approached, hovering over us.  Captain Nemo's\ncompanion shouldered his gun and fired, when it was only a few yards\nabove the waves.  The creature fell stunned, and the force of its fall\nbrought it within the reach of dexterous hunter's grasp.  It was an\nalbatross of the finest kind.\n\nOur march had not been interrupted by this incident.  For two hours we\nfollowed these sandy plains, then fields of algae very disagreeable to\ncross.  Candidly, I could do no more when I saw a glimmer of light,\nwhich, for a half mile, broke the darkness of the waters.  It was the\nlantern of the Nautilus.  Before twenty minutes were over we should be\non board, and I should be able to breathe with ease, for it seemed that\nmy reservoir supplied air very deficient in oxygen.  But I did not\nreckon on an accidental meeting which delayed our arrival for some time.\n\nI had remained some steps behind, when I presently saw Captain Nemo\ncoming hurriedly towards me.  With his strong hand he bent me to the\nground, his companion doing the same to Conseil.  At first I knew not\nwhat to think of this sudden attack, but I was soon reassured by seeing\nthe Captain lie down beside me, and remain immovable.\n\nI was stretched on the ground, just under the shelter of a bush of\nalgae, when, raising my head, I saw some enormous mass, casting\nphosphorescent gleams, pass blusteringly by.\n\nMy blood froze in my veins as I recognised two formidable sharks which\nthreatened us.  It was a couple of tintoreas, terrible creatures, with\nenormous tails and a dull glassy stare, the phosphorescent matter\nejected from holes pierced around the muzzle.  Monstrous brutes! which\nwould crush a whole man in their iron jaws.  I did not know whether\nConseil stopped to classify them; for my part, I noticed their silver\nbellies, and their huge mouths bristling with teeth, from a very\nunscientific point of view, and more as a possible victim than as a\nnaturalist.\n\nHappily the voracious creatures do not see well.  They passed without\nseeing us, brushing us with their brownish fins, and we escaped by a\nmiracle from a danger certainly greater than meeting a tiger full-face\nin the forest.  Half an hour after, guided by the electric light we\nreached the Nautilus.  The outside door had been left open, and Captain\nNemo closed it as soon as we had entered the first cell.  He then\npressed a knob.  I heard the pumps working in the midst of the vessel,\nI felt the water sinking from around me, and in a few moments the cell\nwas entirely empty.  The inside door then opened, and we entered the\nvestry.\n\nThere our diving-dress was taken off, not without some trouble, and,\nfairly worn out from want of food and sleep, I returned to my room, in\ngreat wonder at this surprising excursion at the bottom of the sea.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XVII\n\nFOUR THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE PACIFIC\n\nThe next morning, the 18th of November, I had quite recovered from my\nfatigues of the day before, and I went up on to the platform, just as\nthe second lieutenant was uttering his daily phrase.\n\nI was admiring the magnificent aspect of the ocean when Captain Nemo\nappeared.  He did not seem to be aware of my presence, and began a\nseries of astronomical observations.  Then, when he had finished, he\nwent and leant on the cage of the watch-light, and gazed abstractedly\non the ocean.  In the meantime, a number of the sailors of the\nNautilus, all strong and healthy men, had come up onto the platform.\nThey came to draw up the nets that had been laid all night.  These\nsailors were evidently of different nations, although the European type\nwas visible in all of them.  I recognised some unmistakable Irishmen,\nFrenchmen, some Sclaves, and a Greek, or a Candiote.  They were civil,\nand only used that odd language among themselves, the origin of which I\ncould not guess, neither could I question them.\n\nThe nets were hauled in.  They were a large kind of \"chaluts,\" like\nthose on the Normandy coasts, great pockets that the waves and a chain\nfixed in the smaller meshes kept open.  These pockets, drawn by iron\npoles, swept through the water, and gathered in everything in their\nway.  That day they brought up curious specimens from those productive\ncoasts.\n\nI reckoned that the haul had brought in more than nine hundredweight of\nfish.  It was a fine haul, but not to be wondered at.  Indeed, the nets\nare let down for several hours, and enclose in their meshes an infinite\nvariety.  We had no lack of excellent food, and the rapidity of the\nNautilus and the attraction of the electric light could always renew\nour supply.  These several productions of the sea were immediately\nlowered through the panel to the steward's room, some to be eaten\nfresh, and others pickled.\n\nThe fishing ended, the provision of air renewed, I thought that the\nNautilus was about to continue its submarine excursion, and was\npreparing to return to my room, when, without further preamble, the\nCaptain turned to me, saying:\n\n\"Professor, is not this ocean gifted with real life?  It has its\ntempers and its gentle moods.  Yesterday it slept as we did, and now it\nhas woke after a quiet night.  Look!\" he continued, \"it wakes under the\ncaresses of the sun.  It is going to renew its diurnal existence.  It\nis an interesting study to watch the play of its organisation.  It has\na pulse, arteries, spasms; and I agree with the learned Maury, who\ndiscovered in it a circulation as real as the circulation of blood in\nanimals.\n\n\"Yes, the ocean has indeed circulation, and to promote it, the Creator\nhas caused things to multiply in it--caloric, salt, and animalculae.\"\n\nWhen Captain Nemo spoke thus, he seemed altogether changed, and aroused\nan extraordinary emotion in me.\n\n\"Also,\" he added, \"true existence is there; and I can imagine the\nfoundations of nautical towns, clusters of submarine houses, which,\nlike the Nautilus, would ascend every morning to breathe at the surface\nof the water, free towns, independent cities.  Yet who knows whether\nsome despot----\"\n\nCaptain Nemo finished his sentence with a violent gesture.  Then,\naddressing me as if to chase away some sorrowful thought:\n\n\"M. Aronnax,\" he asked, \"do you know the depth of the ocean?\"\n\n\"I only know, Captain, what the principal soundings have taught us.\"\n\n\"Could you tell me them, so that I can suit them to my purpose?\"\n\n\"These are some,\" I replied, \"that I remember.  If I am not mistaken, a\ndepth of 8,000 yards has been found in the North Atlantic, and 2,500\nyards in the Mediterranean.  The most remarkable soundings have been\nmade in the South Atlantic, near the thirty-fifth parallel, and they\ngave 12,000 yards, 14,000 yards, and 15,000 yards.  To sum up all, it\nis reckoned that if the bottom of the sea were levelled, its mean depth\nwould be about one and three-quarter leagues.\"\n\n\"Well, Professor,\" replied the Captain, \"we shall show you better than\nthat I hope.  As to the mean depth of this part of the Pacific, I tell\nyou it is only 4,000 yards.\"\n\nHaving said this, Captain Nemo went towards the panel, and disappeared\ndown the ladder.  I followed him, and went into the large drawing-room.\nThe screw was immediately put in motion, and the log gave twenty miles\nan hour.\n\nDuring the days and weeks that passed, Captain Nemo was very sparing of\nhis visits.  I seldom saw him.  The lieutenant pricked the ship's\ncourse regularly on the chart, so I could always tell exactly the route\nof the Nautilus.\n\nNearly every day, for some time, the panels of the drawing-room were\nopened, and we were never tired of penetrating the mysteries of the\nsubmarine world.\n\nThe general direction of the Nautilus was south-east, and it kept\nbetween 100 and 150 yards of depth.  One day, however, I do not know\nwhy, being drawn diagonally by means of the inclined planes, it touched\nthe bed of the sea.  The thermometer indicated a temperature of 4.25\n(cent.): a temperature that at this depth seemed common to all\nlatitudes.\n\nAt three o'clock in the morning of the 26th of November the Nautilus\ncrossed the tropic of Cancer at 172° long.  On 27th instant it\nsighted the Sandwich Islands, where Cook died, February 14, 1779.  We\nhad then gone 4,860 leagues from our starting-point. In the morning,\nwhen I went on the platform, I saw two miles to windward, Hawaii, the\nlargest of the seven islands that form the group.  I saw clearly the\ncultivated ranges, and the several mountain-chains that run parallel\nwith the side, and the volcanoes that overtop Mouna-Rea, which rise\n5,000 yards above the level of the sea.  Besides other things the nets\nbrought up, were several flabellariae and graceful polypi, that are\npeculiar to that part of the ocean.  The direction of the Nautilus was\nstill to the south-east. It crossed the equator December 1, in 142°\nlong.; and on the 4th of the same month, after crossing rapidly and\nwithout anything in particular occurring, we sighted the Marquesas\ngroup.  I saw, three miles off, Martin's peak in Nouka-Hiva, the\nlargest of the group that belongs to France.  I only saw the woody\nmountains against the horizon, because Captain Nemo did not wish to\nbring the ship to the wind.  There the nets brought up beautiful\nspecimens of fish:  some with azure fins and tails like gold, the flesh\nof which is unrivalled; some nearly destitute of scales, but of\nexquisite flavour; others, with bony jaws, and yellow-tinged gills, as\ngood as bonitos; all fish that would be of use to us.  After leaving\nthese charming islands protected by the French flag, from the 4th to\nthe 11th of December the Nautilus sailed over about 2,000 miles.\n\nDuring the daytime of the 11th of December I was busy reading in the\nlarge drawing-room. Ned Land and Conseil watched the luminous water\nthrough the half-open panels.  The Nautilus was immovable.  While its\nreservoirs were filled, it kept at a depth of 1,000 yards, a region\nrarely visited in the ocean, and in which large fish were seldom seen.\n\nI was then reading a charming book by Jean Mace, The Slaves of the\nStomach, and I was learning some valuable lessons from it, when Conseil\ninterrupted me.\n\n\"Will master come here a moment?\" he said, in a curious voice.\n\n\"What is the matter, Conseil?\"\n\n\"I want master to look.\"\n\nI rose, went, and leaned on my elbows before the panes and watched.\n\nIn a full electric light, an enormous black mass, quite immovable, was\nsuspended in the midst of the waters.  I watched it attentively,\nseeking to find out the nature of this gigantic cetacean.  But a sudden\nthought crossed my mind.  \"A vessel!\" I said, half aloud.\n\n\"Yes,\" replied the Canadian, \"a disabled ship that has sunk\nperpendicularly.\"\n\nNed Land was right; we were close to a vessel of which the tattered\nshrouds still hung from their chains.  The keel seemed to be in good\norder, and it had been wrecked at most some few hours.  Three stumps of\nmasts, broken off about two feet above the bridge, showed that the\nvessel had had to sacrifice its masts.  But, lying on its side, it had\nfilled, and it was heeling over to port.  This skeleton of what it had\nonce been was a sad spectacle as it lay lost under the waves, but\nsadder still was the sight of the bridge, where some corpses, bound\nwith ropes, were still lying.  I counted five--four men, one of whom\nwas standing at the helm, and a woman standing by the poop, holding an\ninfant in her arms.  She was quite young.  I could distinguish her\nfeatures, which the water had not decomposed, by the brilliant light\nfrom the Nautilus.  In one despairing effort, she had raised her infant\nabove her head--poor little thing!--whose arms encircled its mother's\nneck.  The attitude of the four sailors was frightful, distorted as\nthey were by their convulsive movements, whilst making a last effort to\nfree themselves from the cords that bound them to the vessel.  The\nsteersman alone, calm, with a grave, clear face, his grey hair glued to\nhis forehead, and his hand clutching the wheel of the helm, seemed even\nthen to be guiding the three broken masts through the depths of the\nocean.\n\nWhat a scene!  We were dumb; our hearts beat fast before this\nshipwreck, taken as it were from life and photographed in its last\nmoments.  And I saw already, coming towards it with hungry eyes,\nenormous sharks, attracted by the human flesh.\n\nHowever, the Nautilus, turning, went round the submerged vessel, and in\none instant I read on the stern--\"The Florida, Sunderland.\"\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XVIII\n\nVANIKORO\n\nThis terrible spectacle was the forerunner of the series of maritime\ncatastrophes that the Nautilus was destined to meet with in its route.\nAs long as it went through more frequented waters, we often saw the\nhulls of shipwrecked vessels that were rotting in the depths, and\ndeeper down cannons, bullets, anchors, chains, and a thousand other\niron materials eaten up by rust.  However, on the 11th of December we\nsighted the Pomotou Islands, the old \"dangerous group\" of Bougainville,\nthat extend over a space of 500 leagues at E.S.E. to W.N.W., from the\nIsland Ducie to that of Lazareff.  This group covers an area of 370\nsquare leagues, and it is formed of sixty groups of islands, among\nwhich the Gambier group is remarkable, over which France exercises\nsway.  These are coral islands, slowly raised, but continuous, created\nby the daily work of polypi.  Then this new island will be joined later\non to the neighboring groups, and a fifth continent will stretch from\nNew Zealand and New Caledonia, and from thence to the Marquesas.\n\nOne day, when I was suggesting this theory to Captain Nemo, he replied\ncoldly:\n\n\"The earth does not want new continents, but new men.\"\n\nChance had conducted the Nautilus towards the Island of\nClermont-Tonnere, one of the most curious of the group, that was\ndiscovered in 1822 by Captain Bell of the Minerva. I could study now\nthe madreporal system, to which are due the islands in this ocean.\n\nMadrepores (which must not be mistaken for corals) have a tissue lined\nwith a calcareous crust, and the modifications of its structure have\ninduced M. Milne Edwards, my worthy master, to class them into five\nsections. The animalcule that the marine polypus secretes live by\nmillions at the bottom of their cells. Their calcareous deposits become\nrocks, reefs, and large and small islands. Here they form a ring,\nsurrounding a little inland lake, that communicates with the sea by\nmeans of gaps. There they make barriers of reefs like those on the\ncoasts of New Caledonia and the various Pomoton islands. In other\nplaces, like those at Reunion and at Maurice, they raise fringed reefs,\nhigh, straight walls, near which the depth of the ocean is considerable.\n\nSome cable-lengths off the shores of the Island of Clermont I admired\nthe gigantic work accomplished by these microscopical workers. These\nwalls are specially the work of those madrepores known as milleporas,\nporites, madrepores, and astraeas. These polypi are found particularly\nin the rough beds of the sea, near the surface; and consequently it is\nfrom the upper part that they begin their operations, in which they\nbury themselves by degrees with the debris of the secretions that\nsupport them. Such is, at least, Darwin's theory, who thus explains the\nformation of the _atolls_, a superior theory (to my mind) to that given\nof the foundation of the madreporical works, summits of mountains or\nvolcanoes, that are submerged some feet below the level of the sea.\n\nI could observe closely these curious walls, for perpendicularly they\nwere more than 300 yards deep, and our electric sheets lighted up this\ncalcareous matter brilliantly. Replying to a question Conseil asked me\nas to the time these colossal barriers took to be raised, I astonished\nhim much by telling him that learned men reckoned it about the eighth\nof an inch in a hundred years.\n\nTowards evening Clermont-Tonnerre was lost in the distance, and the\nroute of the Nautilus was sensibly changed. After having crossed the\ntropic of Capricorn in 135° longitude, it sailed W.N.W., making\nagain for the tropical zone. Although the summer sun was very strong,\nwe did not suffer from heat, for at fifteen or twenty fathoms below the\nsurface, the temperature did not rise above from ten to twelve degrees.\n\nOn 15th of December, we left to the east the bewitching group of the\nSocieties and the graceful Tahiti, queen of the Pacific.  I saw in the\nmorning, some miles to the windward, the elevated summits of the\nisland.  These waters furnished our table with excellent fish,\nmackerel, bonitos, and some varieties of a sea-serpent.\n\nOn the 25th of December the Nautilus sailed into the midst of the New\nHebrides, discovered by Quiros in 1606, and that Bougainville explored\nin 1768, and to which Cook gave its present name in 1773.  This group\nis composed principally of nine large islands, that form a band of 120\nleagues N.N.S. to S.S.W., between 15° and 2° S. lat., and 164\ndeg. and 168° long.  We passed tolerably near to the Island of\nAurou, that at noon looked like a mass of green woods, surmounted by a\npeak of great height.\n\nThat day being Christmas Day, Ned Land seemed to regret sorely the\nnon-celebration of \"Christmas,\" the family fete of which Protestants\nare so fond.  I had not seen Captain Nemo for a week, when, on the\nmorning of the 27th, he came into the large drawing-room, always\nseeming as if he had seen you five minutes before.  I was busily\ntracing the route of the Nautilus on the planisphere.  The Captain came\nup to me, put his finger on one spot on the chart, and said this single\nword.\n\n\"Vanikoro.\"\n\nThe effect was magical!  It was the name of the islands on which La\nPerouse had been lost!  I rose suddenly.\n\n\"The Nautilus has brought us to Vanikoro?\"  I asked.\n\n\"Yes, Professor,\" said the Captain.\n\n\"And I can visit the celebrated islands where the Boussole and the\nAstrolabe struck?\"\n\n\"If you like, Professor.\"\n\n\"When shall we be there?\"\n\n\"We are there now.\"\n\nFollowed by Captain Nemo, I went up on to the platform, and greedily\nscanned the horizon.\n\nTo the N.E. two volcanic islands emerged of unequal size, surrounded by\na coral reef that measured forty miles in circumference.  We were close\nto Vanikoro, really the one to which Dumont d'Urville gave the name of\nIsle de la Recherche, and exactly facing the little harbour of Vanou,\nsituated in 16° 4' S. lat., and 164° 32' E. long.  The earth\nseemed covered with verdure from the shore to the summits in the\ninterior, that were crowned by Mount Kapogo, 476 feet high.  The\nNautilus, having passed the outer belt of rocks by a narrow strait,\nfound itself among breakers where the sea was from thirty to forty\nfathoms deep.  Under the verdant shade of some mangroves I perceived\nsome savages, who appeared greatly surprised at our approach.  In the\nlong black body, moving between wind and water, did they not see some\nformidable cetacean that they regarded with suspicion?\n\nJust then Captain Nemo asked me what I knew about the wreck of La\nPerouse.\n\n\"Only what everyone knows, Captain,\" I replied.\n\n\"And could you tell me what everyone knows about it?\" he inquired,\nironically.\n\n\"Easily.\"\n\nI related to him all that the last works of Dumont d'Urville had made\nknown--works from which the following is a brief account.\n\nLa Perouse, and his second, Captain de Langle, were sent by Louis XVI,\nin 1785, on a voyage of circumnavigation.  They embarked in the\ncorvettes Boussole and the Astrolabe, neither of which were again heard\nof.  In 1791, the French Government, justly uneasy as to the fate of\nthese two sloops, manned two large merchantmen, the Recherche and the\nEsperance, which left Brest the 28th of September under the command of\nBruni d'Entrecasteaux.\n\nTwo months after, they learned from Bowen, commander of the Albemarle,\nthat the debris of shipwrecked vessels had been seen on the coasts of\nNew Georgia.  But D'Entrecasteaux, ignoring this communication--rather\nuncertain, besides--directed his course towards the Admiralty Islands,\nmentioned in a report of Captain Hunter's as being the place where La\nPerouse was wrecked.\n\nThey sought in vain.  The Esperance and the Recherche passed before\nVanikoro without stopping there, and, in fact, this voyage was most\ndisastrous, as it cost D'Entrecasteaux his life, and those of two of\nhis lieutenants, besides several of his crew.\n\nCaptain Dillon, a shrewd old Pacific sailor, was the first to find\nunmistakable traces of the wrecks.  On the 15th of May, 1824, his\nvessel, the St. Patrick, passed close to Tikopia, one of the New\nHebrides.  There a Lascar came alongside in a canoe, sold him the\nhandle of a sword in silver that bore the print of characters engraved\non the hilt.  The Lascar pretended that six years before, during a stay\nat Vanikoro, he had seen two Europeans that belonged to some vessels\nthat had run aground on the reefs some years ago.\n\nDillon guessed that he meant La Perouse, whose disappearance had\ntroubled the whole world.  He tried to get on to Vanikoro, where,\naccording to the Lascar, he would find numerous debris of the wreck,\nbut winds and tides prevented him.\n\nDillon returned to Calcutta.  There he interested the Asiatic Society\nand the Indian Company in his discovery.  A vessel, to which was given\nthe name of the Recherche, was put at his disposal, and he set out,\n23rd January, 1827, accompanied by a French agent.\n\nThe Recherche, after touching at several points in the Pacific, cast\nanchor before Vanikoro, 7th July, 1827, in that same harbour of Vanou\nwhere the Nautilus was at this time.\n\nThere it collected numerous relics of the wreck--iron utensils,\nanchors, pulley-strops, swivel-guns, an 18 lb. shot, fragments of\nastronomical instruments, a piece of crown work, and a bronze clock,\nbearing this inscription--\"Bazin m'a fait,\" the mark of the foundry of\nthe arsenal at Brest about 1785.  There could be no further doubt.\n\nDillon, having made all inquiries, stayed in the unlucky place till\nOctober.  Then he quitted Vanikoro, and directed his course towards New\nZealand; put into Calcutta, 7th April, 1828, and returned to France,\nwhere he was warmly welcomed by Charles X.\n\nBut at the same time, without knowing Dillon's movements, Dumont\nd'Urville had already set out to find the scene of the wreck.  And they\nhad learned from a whaler that some medals and a cross of St. Louis had\nbeen found in the hands of some savages of Louisiade and New Caledonia.\nDumont d'Urville, commander of the Astrolabe, had then sailed, and two\nmonths after Dillon had left Vanikoro he put into Hobart Town.  There\nhe learned the results of Dillon's inquiries, and found that a certain\nJames Hobbs, second lieutenant of the Union of Calcutta, after landing\non an island situated 8° 18' S. lat., and 156° 30' E. long.,\nhad seen some iron bars and red stuffs used by the natives of these\nparts.  Dumont d'Urville, much perplexed, and not knowing how to credit\nthe reports of low-class journals, decided to follow Dillon's track.\n\nOn the 10th of February, 1828, the Astrolabe appeared off Tikopia, and\ntook as guide and interpreter a deserter found on the island; made his\nway to Vanikoro, sighted it on the 12th inst., lay among the reefs\nuntil the 14th, and not until the 20th did he cast anchor within the\nbarrier in the harbour of Vanou.\n\nOn the 23rd, several officers went round the island and brought back\nsome unimportant trifles.  The natives, adopting a system of denials\nand evasions, refused to take them to the unlucky place.  This\nambiguous conduct led them to believe that the natives had ill-treated\nthe castaways, and indeed they seemed to fear that Dumont d'Urville had\ncome to avenge La Perouse and his unfortunate crew.\n\nHowever, on the 26th, appeased by some presents, and understanding that\nthey had no reprisals to fear, they led M. Jacquireot to the scene of\nthe wreck.\n\nThere, in three or four fathoms of water, between the reefs of Pacou\nand Vanou, lay anchors, cannons, pigs of lead and iron, embedded in the\nlimy concretions.  The large boat and the whaler belonging to the\nAstrolabe were sent to this place, and, not without some difficulty,\ntheir crews hauled up an anchor weighing 1,800 lbs., a brass gun, some\npigs of iron, and two copper swivel-guns.\n\nDumont d'Urville, questioning the natives, learned too that La Perouse,\nafter losing both his vessels on the reefs of this island, had\nconstructed a smaller boat, only to be lost a second time.  Where, no\none knew.\n\nBut the French Government, fearing that Dumont d'Urville was not\nacquainted with Dillon's movements, had sent the sloop Bayonnaise,\ncommanded by Legoarant de Tromelin, to Vanikoro, which had been\nstationed on the west coast of America.  The Bayonnaise cast her anchor\nbefore Vanikoro some months after the departure of the Astrolabe, but\nfound no new document; but stated that the savages had respected the\nmonument to La Perouse.  That is the substance of what I told Captain\nNemo.\n\n\"So,\" he said, \"no one knows now where the third vessel perished that\nwas constructed by the castaways on the island of Vanikoro?\"\n\n\"No one knows.\"\n\nCaptain Nemo said nothing, but signed to me to follow him into the\nlarge saloon.  The Nautilus sank several yards below the waves, and the\npanels were opened.\n\nI hastened to the aperture, and under the crustations of coral, covered\nwith fungi, syphonules, alcyons, madrepores, through myriads of\ncharming fish--girelles, glyphisidri, pompherides, diacopes, and\nholocentres--I recognised certain debris that the drags had not been\nable to tear up--iron stirrups, anchors, cannons, bullets, capstan\nfittings, the stem of a ship, all objects clearly proving the wreck of\nsome vessel, and now carpeted with living flowers. While I was looking\non this desolate scene, Captain Nemo said, in a sad voice:\n\n\"Commander La Perouse set out 7th December, 1785, with his vessels La\nBoussole and the Astrolabe.  He first cast anchor at Botany Bay,\nvisited the Friendly Isles, New Caledonia, then directed his course\ntowards Santa Cruz, and put into Namouka, one of the Hapai group.  Then\nhis vessels struck on the unknown reefs of Vanikoro.  The Boussole,\nwhich went first, ran aground on the southerly coast.  The Astrolabe\nwent to its help, and ran aground too.  The first vessel was destroyed\nalmost immediately.  The second, stranded under the wind, resisted some\ndays.  The natives made the castaways welcome.  They installed\nthemselves in the island, and constructed a smaller boat with the\ndebris of the two large ones.  Some sailors stayed willingly at\nVanikoro; the others, weak and ill, set out with La Perouse.  They\ndirected their course towards the Solomon Islands, and there perished,\nwith everything, on the westerly coast of the chief island of the\ngroup, between Capes Deception and Satisfaction.\"\n\n\"How do you know that?\"\n\n\"By this, that I found on the spot where was the last wreck.\"\n\nCaptain Nemo showed me a tin-plate box, stamped with the French arms,\nand corroded by the salt water.  He opened it, and I saw a bundle of\npapers, yellow but still readable.\n\nThey were the instructions of the naval minister to Commander La\nPerouse, annotated in the margin in Louis XVI's handwriting.\n\n\"Ah! it is a fine death for a sailor!\" said Captain Nemo, at last.  \"A\ncoral tomb makes a quiet grave; and I trust that I and my comrades will\nfind no other.\"\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XIX\n\nTORRES STRAITS\n\nDuring the night of the 27th or 28th of December, the Nautilus left the\nshores of Vanikoro with great speed.  Her course was south-westerly,\nand in three days she had gone over the 750 leagues that separated it\nfrom La Perouse's group and the south-east point of Papua.\n\nEarly on the 1st of January, 1863, Conseil joined me on the platform.\n\n\"Master, will you permit me to wish you a happy New Year?\"\n\n\"What!  Conseil; exactly as if I was at Paris in my study at the Jardin\ndes Plantes?  Well, I accept your good wishes, and thank you for them.\nOnly, I will ask you what you mean by a `Happy New Year' under our\ncircumstances?  Do you mean the year that will bring us to the end of\nour imprisonment, or the year that sees us continue this strange\nvoyage?\"\n\n\"Really, I do not know how to answer, master.  We are sure to see\ncurious things, and for the last two months we have not had time for\ndullness.  The last marvel is always the most astonishing; and, if we\ncontinue this progression, I do not know how it will end.  It is my\nopinion that we shall never again see the like.  I think then, with no\noffence to master, that a happy year would be one in which we could see\neverything.\"\n\nOn 2nd January we had made 11,340 miles, or 5,250 French leagues, since\nour starting-point in the Japan Seas.  Before the ship's head stretched\nthe dangerous shores of the coral sea, on the north-east coast of\nAustralia.  Our boat lay along some miles from the redoubtable bank on\nwhich Cook's vessel was lost, 10th June, 1770.  The boat in which Cook\nwas struck on a rock, and, if it did not sink, it was owing to a piece\nof coral that was broken by the shock, and fixed itself in the broken\nkeel.\n\nI had wished to visit the reef, 360 leagues long, against which the\nsea, always rough, broke with great violence, with a noise like\nthunder.  But just then the inclined planes drew the Nautilus down to a\ngreat depth, and I could see nothing of the high coral walls.  I had to\ncontent myself with the different specimens of fish brought up by the\nnets.  I remarked, among others, some germons, a species of mackerel as\nlarge as a tunny, with bluish sides, and striped with transverse bands,\nthat disappear with the animal's life.\n\nThese fish followed us in shoals, and furnished us with very delicate\nfood. We took also a large number of gilt-heads, about one and a half\ninches long, tasting like dorys; and flying pyrapeds like submarine\nswallows, which, in dark nights, light alternately the air and water\nwith their phosphorescent light. Among the molluscs and zoophytes, I\nfound in the meshes of the net several species of alcyonarians, echini,\nhammers, spurs, dials, cerites, and hyalleae. The flora was represented\nby beautiful floating seaweeds, laminariae, and macrocystes,\nimpregnated with the mucilage that transudes through their pores; and\namong which I gathered an admirable Nemastoma Geliniarois, that was\nclassed among the natural curiosities of the museum.\n\nTwo days after crossing the coral sea, 4th January, we sighted the\nPapuan coasts.  On this occasion, Captain Nemo informed me that his\nintention was to get into the Indian Ocean by the Strait of Torres.\nHis communication ended there.\n\nThe Torres Straits are nearly thirty-four leagues wide; but they are\nobstructed by an innumerable quantity of islands, islets, breakers, and\nrocks, that make its navigation almost impracticable; so that Captain\nNemo took all needful precautions to cross them.  The Nautilus,\nfloating betwixt wind and water, went at a moderate pace.  Her screw,\nlike a cetacean's tail, beat the waves slowly.\n\nProfiting by this, I and my two companions went up on to the deserted\nplatform.  Before us was the steersman's cage, and I expected that\nCaptain Nemo was there directing the course of the Nautilus.  I had\nbefore me the excellent charts of the Straits of Torres, and I\nconsulted them attentively.  Round the Nautilus the sea dashed\nfuriously.  The course of the waves, that went from south-east to\nnorth-west at the rate of two and a half miles, broke on the coral that\nshowed itself here and there.\n\n\"This is a bad sea!\" remarked Ned Land.\n\n\"Detestable indeed, and one that does not suit a boat like the\nNautilus.\"\n\n\"The Captain must be very sure of his route, for I see there pieces of\ncoral that would do for its keel if it only touched them slightly.\"\n\nIndeed the situation was dangerous, but the Nautilus seemed to slide\nlike magic off these rocks.  It did not follow the routes of the\nAstrolabe and the Zelee exactly, for they proved fatal to Dumont\nd'Urville. It bore more northwards, coasted the Islands of Murray, and\ncame back to the south-west towards Cumberland Passage.  I thought it\nwas going to pass it by, when, going back to north-west, it went\nthrough a large quantity of islands and islets little known, towards\nthe Island Sound and Canal Mauvais.\n\nI wondered if Captain Nemo, foolishly imprudent, would steer his vessel\ninto that pass where Dumont d'Urville's two corvettes touched; when,\nswerving again, and cutting straight through to the west, he steered\nfor the Island of Gilboa.\n\nIt was then three in the afternoon.  The tide began to recede, being\nquite full.  The Nautilus approached the island, that I still saw, with\nits remarkable border of screw-pines. He stood off it at about two\nmiles distant.  Suddenly a shock overthrew me.  The Nautilus just\ntouched a rock, and stayed immovable, laying lightly to port side.\n\nWhen I rose, I perceived Captain Nemo and his lieutenant on the\nplatform.  They were examining the situation of the vessel, and\nexchanging words in their incomprehensible dialect.\n\nShe was situated thus:  Two miles, on the starboard side, appeared\nGilboa, stretching from north to west like an immense arm.  Towards the\nsouth and east some coral showed itself, left by the ebb.  We had run\naground, and in one of those seas where the tides are middling--a sorry\nmatter for the floating of the Nautilus.  However, the vessel had not\nsuffered, for her keel was solidly joined.  But, if she could neither\nglide off nor move, she ran the risk of being for ever fastened to\nthese rocks, and then Captain Nemo's submarine vessel would be done for.\n\nI was reflecting thus, when the Captain, cool and calm, always master\nof himself, approached me.\n\n\"An accident?\"  I asked.\n\n\"No; an incident.\"\n\n\"But an incident that will oblige you perhaps to become an inhabitant\nof this land from which you flee?\"\n\nCaptain Nemo looked at me curiously, and made a negative gesture, as\nmuch as to say that nothing would force him to set foot on terra firma\nagain.  Then he said:\n\n\"Besides, M. Aronnax, the Nautilus is not lost; it will carry you yet\ninto the midst of the marvels of the ocean.  Our voyage is only begun,\nand I do not wish to be deprived so soon of the honour of your company.\"\n\n\"However, Captain Nemo,\" I replied, without noticing the ironical turn\nof his phrase, \"the Nautilus ran aground in open sea.  Now the tides\nare not strong in the Pacific; and, if you cannot lighten the Nautilus,\nI do not see how it will be reinflated.\"\n\n\"The tides are not strong in the Pacific:  you are right there,\nProfessor; but in Torres Straits one finds still a difference of a yard\nand a half between the level of high and low seas.  To-day is 4th\nJanuary, and in five days the moon will be full.  Now, I shall be very\nmuch astonished if that satellite does not raise these masses of water\nsufficiently, and render me a service that I should be indebted to her\nfor.\"\n\nHaving said this, Captain Nemo, followed by his lieutenant, redescended\nto the interior of the Nautilus.  As to the vessel, it moved not, and\nwas immovable, as if the coralline polypi had already walled it up with\ntheir in destructible cement.\n\n\"Well, sir?\" said Ned Land, who came up to me after the departure of\nthe Captain.\n\n\"Well, friend Ned, we will wait patiently for the tide on the 9th\ninstant; for it appears that the moon will have the goodness to put it\noff again.\"\n\n\"Really?\"\n\n\"Really.\"\n\n\"And this Captain is not going to cast anchor at all since the tide\nwill suffice?\" said Conseil, simply.\n\nThe Canadian looked at Conseil, then shrugged his shoulders.\n\n\"Sir, you may believe me when I tell you that this piece of iron will\nnavigate neither on nor under the sea again; it is only fit to be sold\nfor its weight.  I think, therefore, that the time has come to part\ncompany with Captain Nemo.\"\n\n\"Friend Ned, I do not despair of this stout Nautilus, as you do; and in\nfour days we shall know what to hold to on the Pacific tides.  Besides,\nflight might be possible if we were in sight of the English or\nProvencal coast; but on the Papuan shores, it is another thing; and it\nwill be time enough to come to that extremity if the Nautilus does not\nrecover itself again, which I look upon as a grave event.\"\n\n\"But do they know, at least, how to act circumspectly?  There is an\nisland; on that island there are trees; under those trees, terrestrial\nanimals, bearers of cutlets and roast beef, to which I would willingly\ngive a trial.\"\n\n\"In this, friend Ned is right,\" said Conseil, \"and I agree with him.\nCould not master obtain permission from his friend Captain Nemo to put\nus on land, if only so as not to lose the habit of treading on the\nsolid parts of our planet?\"\n\n\"I can ask him, but he will refuse.\"\n\n\"Will master risk it?\" asked Conseil, \"and we shall know how to rely\nupon the Captain's amiability.\"\n\nTo my great surprise, Captain Nemo gave me the permission I asked for,\nand he gave it very agreeably, without even exacting from me a promise\nto return to the vessel; but flight across New Guinea might be very\nperilous, and I should not have counselled Ned Land to attempt it.\nBetter to be a prisoner on board the Nautilus than to fall into the\nhands of the natives.\n\nAt eight o'clock, armed with guns and hatchets, we got off the\nNautilus.  The sea was pretty calm; a slight breeze blew on land.\nConseil and I rowing, we sped along quickly, and Ned steered in the\nstraight passage that the breakers left between them.  The boat was\nwell handled, and moved rapidly.\n\nNed Land could not restrain his joy.  He was like a prisoner that had\nescaped from prison, and knew not that it was necessary to re-enter it.\n\n\"Meat!  We are going to eat some meat; and what meat!\" he replied.\n\"Real game! no, bread, indeed.\"\n\n\"I do not say that fish is not good; we must not abuse it; but a piece\nof fresh venison, grilled on live coals, will agreeably vary our\nordinary course.\"\n\n\"Glutton!\" said Conseil, \"he makes my mouth water.\"\n\n\"It remains to be seen,\" I said, \"if these forests are full of game,\nand if the game is not such as will hunt the hunter himself.\"\n\n\"Well said, M. Aronnax,\" replied the Canadian, whose teeth seemed\nsharpened like the edge of a hatchet; \"but I will eat tiger--loin of\ntiger--if there is no other quadruped on this island.\"\n\n\"Friend Ned is uneasy about it,\" said Conseil.\n\n\"Whatever it may be,\" continued Ned Land, \"every animal with four paws\nwithout feathers, or with two paws without feathers, will be saluted by\nmy first shot.\"\n\n\"Very well!  Master Land's imprudences are beginning.\"\n\n\"Never fear, M. Aronnax,\" replied the Canadian; \"I do not want\ntwenty-five minutes to offer you a dish, of my sort.\"\n\nAt half-past eight the Nautilus boat ran softly aground on a heavy\nsand, after having happily passed the coral reef that surrounds the\nIsland of Gilboa.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XX\n\nA FEW DAYS ON LAND\n\nI was much impressed on touching land.  Ned Land tried the soil with\nhis feet, as if to take possession of it.  However, it was only two\nmonths before that we had become, according to Captain Nemo,\n\"passengers on board the Nautilus,\" but, in reality, prisoners of its\ncommander.\n\nIn a few minutes we were within musket-shot of the coast.  The whole\nhorizon was hidden behind a beautiful curtain of forests.  Enormous\ntrees, the trunks of which attained a height of 200 feet, were tied to\neach other by garlands of bindweed, real natural hammocks, which a\nlight breeze rocked.  They were mimosas, figs, hibisci, and palm trees,\nmingled together in profusion; and under the shelter of their verdant\nvault grew orchids, leguminous plants, and ferns.\n\nBut, without noticing all these beautiful specimens of Papuan flora,\nthe Canadian abandoned the agreeable for the useful.  He discovered a\ncoco-tree, beat down some of the fruit, broke them, and we drunk the\nmilk and ate the nut with a satisfaction that protested against the\nordinary food on the Nautilus.\n\n\"Excellent!\" said Ned Land.\n\n\"Exquisite!\" replied Conseil.\n\n\"And I do not think,\" said the Canadian, \"that he would object to our\nintroducing a cargo of coco-nuts on board.\"\n\n\"I do not think he would, but he would not taste them.\"\n\n\"So much the worse for him,\" said Conseil.\n\n\"And so much the better for us,\" replied Ned Land.  \"There will be more\nfor us.\"\n\n\"One word only, Master Land,\" I said to the harpooner, who was\nbeginning to ravage another coco-nut tree.  \"Coco-nuts are good things,\nbut before filling the canoe with them it would be wise to reconnoitre\nand see if the island does not produce some substance not less useful.\nFresh vegetables would be welcome on board the Nautilus.\"\n\n\"Master is right,\" replied Conseil; \"and I propose to reserve three\nplaces in our vessel, one for fruits, the other for vegetables, and the\nthird for the venison, of which I have not yet seen the smallest\nspecimen.\"\n\n\"Conseil, we must not despair,\" said the Canadian.\n\n\"Let us continue,\" I returned, \"and lie in wait.  Although the island\nseems uninhabited, it might still contain some individuals that would\nbe less hard than we on the nature of game.\"\n\n\"Ho! ho!\" said Ned Land, moving his jaws significantly.\n\n\"Well, Ned!\" said Conseil.\n\n\"My word!\" returned the Canadian, \"I begin to understand the charms of\nanthropophagy.\"\n\n\"Ned!  Ned! what are you saying?  You, a man-eater? I should not feel\nsafe with you, especially as I share your cabin.  I might perhaps wake\none day to find myself half devoured.\"\n\n\"Friend Conseil, I like you much, but not enough to eat you\nunnecessarily.\"\n\n\"I would not trust you,\" replied Conseil.  \"But enough.  We must\nabsolutely bring down some game to satisfy this cannibal, or else one\nof these fine mornings, master will find only pieces of his servant to\nserve him.\"\n\nWhile we were talking thus, we were penetrating the sombre arches of\nthe forest, and for two hours we surveyed it in all directions.\n\nChance rewarded our search for eatable vegetables, and one of the most\nuseful products of the tropical zones furnished us with precious food\nthat we missed on board.  I would speak of the bread-fruit tree, very\nabundant in the island of Gilboa; and I remarked chiefly the variety\ndestitute of seeds, which bears in Malaya the name of \"rima.\"\n\nNed Land knew these fruits well.  He had already eaten many during his\nnumerous voyages, and he knew how to prepare the eatable substance.\nMoreover, the sight of them excited him, and he could contain himself\nno longer.\n\n\"Master,\" he said, \"I shall die if I do not taste a little of this\nbread-fruit pie.\"\n\n\"Taste it, friend Ned--taste it as you want.  We are here to make\nexperiments--make them.\"\n\n\"It won't take long,\" said the Canadian.\n\nAnd, provided with a lentil, he lighted a fire of dead wood that\ncrackled joyously.  During this time, Conseil and I chose the best\nfruits of the bread-fruit. Some had not then attained a sufficient\ndegree of maturity; and their thick skin covered a white but rather\nfibrous pulp.  Others, the greater number yellow and gelatinous, waited\nonly to be picked.\n\nThese fruits enclosed no kernel.  Conseil brought a dozen to Ned Land,\nwho placed them on a coal fire, after having cut them in thick slices,\nand while doing this repeating:\n\n\"You will see, master, how good this bread is.  More so when one has\nbeen deprived of it so long.  It is not even bread,\" added he, \"but a\ndelicate pastry.  You have eaten none, master?\"\n\n\"No, Ned.\"\n\n\"Very well, prepare yourself for a juicy thing.  If you do not come for\nmore, I am no longer the king of harpooners.\"\n\nAfter some minutes, the part of the fruits that was exposed to the fire\nwas completely roasted.  The interior looked like a white pasty, a sort\nof soft crumb, the flavour of which was like that of an artichoke.\n\nIt must be confessed this bread was excellent, and I ate of it with\ngreat relish.\n\n\"What time is it now?\" asked the Canadian.\n\n\"Two o'clock at least,\" replied Conseil.\n\n\"How time flies on firm ground!\" sighed Ned Land.\n\n\"Let us be off,\" replied Conseil.\n\nWe returned through the forest, and completed our collection by a raid\nupon the cabbage-palms, that we gathered from the tops of the trees,\nlittle beans that I recognised as the \"abrou\" of the Malays, and yams\nof a superior quality.\n\nWe were loaded when we reached the boat.  But Ned Land did not find his\nprovisions sufficient.  Fate, however, favoured us.  Just as we were\npushing off, he perceived several trees, from twenty-five to thirty\nfeet high, a species of palm-tree.\n\nAt last, at five o'clock in the evening, loaded with our riches, we\nquitted the shore, and half an hour after we hailed the Nautilus.  No\none appeared on our arrival.  The enormous iron-plated cylinder seemed\ndeserted.  The provisions embarked, I descended to my chamber, and\nafter supper slept soundly.\n\nThe next day, 6th January, nothing new on board.  Not a sound inside,\nnot a sign of life.  The boat rested along the edge, in the same place\nin which we had left it.  We resolved to return to the island.  Ned\nLand hoped to be more fortunate than on the day before with regard to\nthe hunt, and wished to visit another part of the forest.\n\nAt dawn we set off.  The boat, carried on by the waves that flowed to\nshore, reached the island in a few minutes.\n\nWe landed, and, thinking that it was better to give in to the Canadian,\nwe followed Ned Land, whose long limbs threatened to distance us.  He\nwound up the coast towards the west:  then, fording some torrents, he\ngained the high plain that was bordered with admirable forests.  Some\nkingfishers were rambling along the water-courses, but they would not\nlet themselves be approached.  Their circumspection proved to me that\nthese birds knew what to expect from bipeds of our species, and I\nconcluded that, if the island was not inhabited, at least human beings\noccasionally frequented it.\n\nAfter crossing a rather large prairie, we arrived at the skirts of a\nlittle wood that was enlivened by the songs and flight of a large\nnumber of birds.\n\n\"There are only birds,\" said Conseil.\n\n\"But they are eatable,\" replied the harpooner.\n\n\"I do not agree with you, friend Ned, for I see only parrots there.\"\n\n\"Friend Conseil,\" said Ned, gravely, \"the parrot is like pheasant to\nthose who have nothing else.\"\n\n\"And,\" I added, \"this bird, suitably prepared, is worth knife and fork.\"\n\nIndeed, under the thick foliage of this wood, a world of parrots were\nflying from branch to branch, only needing a careful education to speak\nthe human language.  For the moment, they were chattering with parrots\nof all colours, and grave cockatoos, who seemed to meditate upon some\nphilosophical problem, whilst brilliant red lories passed like a piece\nof bunting carried away by the breeze, papuans, with the finest azure\ncolours, and in all a variety of winged things most charming to behold,\nbut few eatable.\n\nHowever, a bird peculiar to these lands, and which has never passed the\nlimits of the Arrow and Papuan islands, was wanting in this collection.\nBut fortune reserved it for me before long.\n\nAfter passing through a moderately thick copse, we found a plain\nobstructed with bushes.  I saw then those magnificent birds, the\ndisposition of whose long feathers obliges them to fly against the\nwind.  Their undulating flight, graceful aerial curves, and the shading\nof their colours, attracted and charmed one's looks.  I had no trouble\nin recognising them.\n\n\"Birds of paradise!\"  I exclaimed.\n\nThe Malays, who carry on a great trade in these birds with the Chinese,\nhave several means that we could not employ for taking them.  Sometimes\nthey put snares on the top of high trees that the birds of paradise\nprefer to frequent.  Sometimes they catch them with a viscous birdlime\nthat paralyses their movements.  They even go so far as to poison the\nfountains that the birds generally drink from.  But we were obliged to\nfire at them during flight, which gave us few chances to bring them\ndown; and, indeed, we vainly exhausted one half our ammunition.\n\nAbout eleven o'clock in the morning, the first range of mountains that\nform the centre of the island was traversed, and we had killed nothing.\nHunger drove us on.  The hunters had relied on the products of the\nchase, and they were wrong.  Happily Conseil, to his great surprise,\nmade a double shot and secured breakfast.  He brought down a white\npigeon and a wood-pigeon, which, cleverly plucked and suspended from a\nskewer, was roasted before a red fire of dead wood.  While these\ninteresting birds were cooking, Ned prepared the fruit of the\nbread-tree. Then the wood-pigeons were devoured to the bones, and\ndeclared excellent.  The nutmeg, with which they are in the habit of\nstuffing their crops, flavours their flesh and renders it delicious\neating.\n\n\"Now, Ned, what do you miss now?\"\n\n\"Some four-footed game, M. Aronnax.  All these pigeons are only\nside-dishes and trifles; and until I have killed an animal with cutlets\nI shall not be content.\"\n\n\"Nor I, Ned, if I do not catch a bird of paradise.\"\n\n\"Let us continue hunting,\" replied Conseil.  \"Let us go towards the\nsea.  We have arrived at the first declivities of the mountains, and I\nthink we had better regain the region of forests.\"\n\nThat was sensible advice, and was followed out.  After walking for one\nhour we had attained a forest of sago-trees. Some inoffensive serpents\nglided away from us.  The birds of paradise fled at our approach, and\ntruly I despaired of getting near one when Conseil, who was walking in\nfront, suddenly bent down, uttered a triumphal cry, and came back to me\nbringing a magnificent specimen.\n\n\"Ah! bravo, Conseil!\"\n\n\"Master is very good.\"\n\n\"No, my boy; you have made an excellent stroke.  Take one of these\nliving birds, and carry it in your hand.\"\n\n\"If master will examine it, he will see that I have not deserved great\nmerit.\"\n\n\"Why, Conseil?\"\n\n\"Because this bird is as drunk as a quail.\"\n\n\"Drunk!\"\n\n\"Yes, sir; drunk with the nutmegs that it devoured under the\nnutmeg-tree, under which I found it.  See, friend Ned, see the\nmonstrous effects of intemperance!\"\n\n\"By Jove!\" exclaimed the Canadian, \"because I have drunk gin for two\nmonths, you must needs reproach me!\"\n\nHowever, I examined the curious bird.  Conseil was right.  The bird,\ndrunk with the juice, was quite powerless.  It could not fly; it could\nhardly walk.\n\nThis bird belonged to the most beautiful of the eight species that are\nfound in Papua and in the neighbouring islands.  It was the \"large\nemerald bird, the most rare kind.\" It measured three feet in length.\nIts head was comparatively small, its eyes placed near the opening of\nthe beak, and also small.  But the shades of colour were beautiful,\nhaving a yellow beak, brown feet and claws, nut-coloured wings with\npurple tips, pale yellow at the back of the neck and head, and emerald\ncolour at the throat, chestnut on the breast and belly.  Two horned,\ndowny nets rose from below the tail, that prolonged the long light\nfeathers of admirable fineness, and they completed the whole of this\nmarvellous bird, that the natives have poetically named the \"bird of\nthe sun.\"\n\nBut if my wishes were satisfied by the possession of the bird of\nparadise, the Canadian's were not yet.  Happily, about two o'clock, Ned\nLand brought down a magnificent hog; from the brood of those the\nnatives call \"bari-outang.\" The animal came in time for us to procure\nreal quadruped meat, and he was well received.  Ned Land was very proud\nof his shot.  The hog, hit by the electric ball, fell stone dead.  The\nCanadian skinned and cleaned it properly, after having taken half a\ndozen cutlets, destined to furnish us with a grilled repast in the\nevening.  Then the hunt was resumed, which was still more marked by Ned\nand Conseil's exploits.\n\nIndeed, the two friends, beating the bushes, roused a herd of kangaroos\nthat fled and bounded along on their elastic paws.  But these animals\ndid not take to flight so rapidly but what the electric capsule could\nstop their course.\n\n\"Ah, Professor!\" cried Ned Land, who was carried away by the delights\nof the chase, \"what excellent game, and stewed, too!  What a supply for\nthe Nautilus!  Two! three! five down!  And to think that we shall eat\nthat flesh, and that the idiots on board shall not have a crumb!\"\n\nI think that, in the excess of his joy, the Canadian, if he had not\ntalked so much, would have killed them all.  But he contented himself\nwith a single dozen of these interesting marsupians.  These animals\nwere small.  They were a species of those \"kangaroo rabbits\" that live\nhabitually in the hollows of trees, and whose speed is extreme; but\nthey are moderately fat, and furnish, at least, estimable food.  We\nwere very satisfied with the results of the hunt.  Happy Ned proposed\nto return to this enchanting island the next day, for he wished to\ndepopulate it of all the eatable quadrupeds.  But he had reckoned\nwithout his host.\n\nAt six o'clock in the evening we had regained the shore; our boat was\nmoored to the usual place.  The Nautilus, like a long rock, emerged\nfrom the waves two miles from the beach.  Ned Land, without waiting,\noccupied himself about the important dinner business.  He understood\nall about cooking well.  The \"bari-outang,\" grilled on the coals, soon\nscented the air with a delicious odour.\n\nIndeed, the dinner was excellent.  Two wood-pigeons completed this\nextraordinary menu.  The sago pasty, the artocarpus bread, some\nmangoes, half a dozen pineapples, and the liquor fermented from some\ncoco-nuts, overjoyed us.  I even think that my worthy companions' ideas\nhad not all the plainness desirable.\n\n\"Suppose we do not return to the Nautilus this evening?\" said Conseil.\n\n\"Suppose we never return?\" added Ned Land.\n\nJust then a stone fell at our feet and cut short the harpooner's\nproposition.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXI\n\nCAPTAIN NEMO'S THUNDERBOLT\n\nWe looked at the edge of the forest without rising, my hand stopping in\nthe action of putting it to my mouth, Ned Land's completing its office.\n\n\"Stones do not fall from the sky,\" remarked Conseil, \"or they would\nmerit the name aerolites.\"\n\nA second stone, carefully aimed, that made a savoury pigeon's leg fall\nfrom Conseil's hand, gave still more weight to his observation.  We all\nthree arose, shouldered our guns, and were ready to reply to any attack.\n\n\"Are they apes?\" cried Ned Land.\n\n\"Very nearly--they are savages.\"\n\n\"To the boat!\"  I said, hurrying to the sea.\n\nIt was indeed necessary to beat a retreat, for about twenty natives\narmed with bows and slings appeared on the skirts of a copse that\nmasked the horizon to the right, hardly a hundred steps from us.\n\nOur boat was moored about sixty feet from us.  The savages approached\nus, not running, but making hostile demonstrations.  Stones and arrows\nfell thickly.\n\nNed Land had not wished to leave his provisions; and, in spite of his\nimminent danger, his pig on one side and kangaroos on the other, he\nwent tolerably fast.  In two minutes we were on the shore.  To load the\nboat with provisions and arms, to push it out to sea, and ship the\noars, was the work of an instant.  We had not gone two cable-lengths,\nwhen a hundred savages, howling and gesticulating, entered the water up\nto their waists.  I watched to see if their apparition would attract\nsome men from the Nautilus on to the platform.  But no.  The enormous\nmachine, lying off, was absolutely deserted.\n\nTwenty minutes later we were on board.  The panels were open.  After\nmaking the boat fast, we entered into the interior of the Nautilus.\n\nI descended to the drawing-room, from whence I heard some chords.\nCaptain Nemo was there, bending over his organ, and plunged in a\nmusical ecstasy.\n\n\"Captain!\"\n\nHe did not hear me.\n\n\"Captain!\"  I said, touching his hand.\n\nHe shuddered, and, turning round, said, \"Ah! it is you, Professor?\nWell, have you had a good hunt, have you botanised successfully?\"\n\n\"Yes Captain; but we have unfortunately brought a troop of bipeds,\nwhose vicinity troubles me.\"\n\n\"What bipeds?\"\n\n\"Savages.\"\n\n\"Savages!\" he echoed, ironically.  \"So you are astonished, Professor,\nat having set foot on a strange land and finding savages?  Savages!\nwhere are there not any?  Besides, are they worse than others, these\nwhom you call savages?\"\n\n\"But Captain----\"\n\n\"How many have you counted?\"\n\n\"A hundred at least.\"\n\n\"M. Aronnax,\" replied Captain Nemo, placing his fingers on the organ\nstops, \"when all the natives of Papua are assembled on this shore, the\nNautilus will have nothing to fear from their attacks.\"\n\nThe Captain's fingers were then running over the keys of the\ninstrument, and I remarked that he touched only the black keys, which\ngave his melodies an essentially Scotch character.  Soon he had\nforgotten my presence, and had plunged into a reverie that I did not\ndisturb.  I went up again on to the platform: night had already fallen;\nfor, in this low latitude, the sun sets rapidly and without twilight.\nI could only see the island indistinctly; but the numerous fires,\nlighted on the beach, showed that the natives did not think of leaving\nit.  I was alone for several hours, sometimes thinking of the\nnatives--but without any dread of them, for the imperturbable\nconfidence of the Captain was catching--sometimes forgetting them to\nadmire the splendours of the night in the tropics.  My remembrances\nwent to France in the train of those zodiacal stars that would shine in\nsome hours' time.  The moon shone in the midst of the constellations of\nthe zenith.\n\nThe night slipped away without any mischance, the islanders frightened\nno doubt at the sight of a monster aground in the bay.  The panels were\nopen, and would have offered an easy access to the interior of the\nNautilus.\n\nAt six o'clock in the morning of the 8th January I went up on to the\nplatform.  The dawn was breaking.  The island soon showed itself\nthrough the dissipating fogs, first the shore, then the summits.\n\nThe natives were there, more numerous than on the day before--five or\nsix hundred perhaps--some of them, profiting by the low water, had come\non to the coral, at less than two cable-lengths from the Nautilus.  I\ndistinguished them easily; they were true Papuans, with athletic\nfigures, men of good race, large high foreheads, large, but not broad\nand flat, and white teeth.  Their woolly hair, with a reddish tinge,\nshowed off on their black shining bodies like those of the Nubians.\nFrom the lobes of their ears, cut and distended, hung chaplets of\nbones.  Most of these savages were naked.  Amongst them, I remarked\nsome women, dressed from the hips to knees in quite a crinoline of\nherbs, that sustained a vegetable waistband.  Some chiefs had\nornamented their necks with a crescent and collars of glass beads, red\nand white; nearly all were armed with bows, arrows, and shields and\ncarried on their shoulders a sort of net containing those round stones\nwhich they cast from their slings with great skill.  One of these\nchiefs, rather near to the Nautilus, examined it attentively.  He was,\nperhaps, a \"mado\" of high rank, for he was draped in a mat of\nbanana-leaves, notched round the edges, and set off with brilliant\ncolours.\n\nI could easily have knocked down this native, who was within a short\nlength; but I thought that it was better to wait for real hostile\ndemonstrations.  Between Europeans and savages, it is proper for the\nEuropeans to parry sharply, not to attack.\n\nDuring low water the natives roamed about near the Nautilus, but were\nnot troublesome; I heard them frequently repeat the word \"Assai,\" and\nby their gestures I understood that they invited me to go on land, an\ninvitation that I declined.\n\nSo that, on that day, the boat did not push off, to the great\ndispleasure of Master Land, who could not complete his provisions.\n\nThis adroit Canadian employed his time in preparing the viands and meat\nthat he had brought off the island.  As for the savages, they returned\nto the shore about eleven o'clock in the morning, as soon as the coral\ntops began to disappear under the rising tide; but I saw their numbers\nhad increased considerably on the shore.  Probably they came from the\nneighbouring islands, or very likely from Papua.  However, I had not\nseen a single native canoe.  Having nothing better to do, I thought of\ndragging these beautiful limpid waters, under which I saw a profusion\nof shells, zoophytes, and marine plants.  Moreover, it was the last day\nthat the Nautilus would pass in these parts, if it float in open sea\nthe next day, according to Captain Nemo's promise.\n\nI therefore called Conseil, who brought me a little light drag, very\nlike those for the oyster fishery.  Now to work!  For two hours we\nfished unceasingly, but without bringing up any rarities.  The drag was\nfilled with midas-ears, harps, melames, and particularly the most\nbeautiful hammers I have ever seen.  We also brought up some sea-slugs,\npearl-oysters, and a dozen little turtles that were reserved for the\npantry on board.\n\nBut just when I expected it least, I put my hand on a wonder, I might\nsay a natural deformity, very rarely met with.  Conseil was just\ndragging, and his net came up filled with divers ordinary shells, when,\nall at once, he saw me plunge my arm quickly into the net, to draw out\na shell, and heard me utter a cry.\n\n\"What is the matter, sir?\" he asked in surprise.  \"Has master been\nbitten?\"\n\n\"No, my boy; but I would willingly have given a finger for my\ndiscovery.\"\n\n\"What discovery?\"\n\n\"This shell,\" I said, holding up the object of my triumph.\n\n\"It is simply an olive porphyry, genus olive, order of the\npectinibranchidae, class of gasteropods, sub-class mollusca.\"\n\n\"Yes, Conseil; but, instead of being rolled from right to left, this\nolive turns from left to right.\"\n\n\"Is it possible?\"\n\n\"Yes, my boy; it is a left shell.\"\n\nShells are all right-handed, with rare exceptions; and, when by chance\ntheir spiral is left, amateurs are ready to pay their weight in gold.\n\nConseil and I were absorbed in the contemplation of our treasure, and I\nwas promising myself to enrich the museum with it, when a stone\nunfortunately thrown by a native struck against, and broke, the\nprecious object in Conseil's hand.  I uttered a cry of despair!\nConseil took up his gun, and aimed at a savage who was poising his\nsling at ten yards from him.  I would have stopped him, but his blow\ntook effect and broke the bracelet of amulets which encircled the arm\nof the savage.\n\n\"Conseil!\" cried I. \"Conseil!\"\n\n\"Well, sir! do you not see that the cannibal has commenced the attack?\"\n\n\"A shell is not worth the life of a man,\" said I.\n\n\"Ah! the scoundrel!\" cried Conseil; \"I would rather he had broken my\nshoulder!\"\n\nConseil was in earnest, but I was not of his opinion.  However, the\nsituation had changed some minutes before, and we had not perceived.  A\nscore of canoes surrounded the Nautilus.  These canoes, scooped out of\nthe trunk of a tree, long, narrow, well adapted for speed, were\nbalanced by means of a long bamboo pole, which floated on the water.\nThey were managed by skilful, half-naked paddlers, and I watched their\nadvance with some uneasiness.  It was evident that these Papuans had\nalready had dealings with the Europeans and knew their ships.  But this\nlong iron cylinder anchored in the bay, without masts or chimneys, what\ncould they think of it?  Nothing good, for at first they kept at a\nrespectful distance.  However, seeing it motionless, by degrees they\ntook courage, and sought to familiarise themselves with it.  Now this\nfamiliarity was precisely what it was necessary to avoid.  Our arms,\nwhich were noiseless, could only produce a moderate effect on the\nsavages, who have little respect for aught but blustering things.  The\nthunderbolt without the reverberations of thunder would frighten man\nbut little, though the danger lies in the lightning, not in the noise.\n\nAt this moment the canoes approached the Nautilus, and a shower of\narrows alighted on her.\n\nI went down to the saloon, but found no one there.  I ventured to knock\nat the door that opened into the Captain's room.  \"Come in,\" was the\nanswer.\n\nI entered, and found Captain Nemo deep in algebraical calculations of\n_x_ and other quantities.\n\n\"I am disturbing you,\" said I, for courtesy's sake.\n\n\"That is true, M. Aronnax,\" replied the Captain; \"but I think you have\nserious reasons for wishing to see me?\"\n\n\"Very grave ones; the natives are surrounding us in their canoes, and\nin a few minutes we shall certainly be attacked by many hundreds of\nsavages.\"\n\n\"Ah!\" said Captain Nemo quietly, \"they are come with their canoes?\"\n\n\"Yes, sir.\"\n\n\"Well, sir, we must close the hatches.\"\n\n\"Exactly, and I came to say to you----\"\n\n\"Nothing can be more simple,\" said Captain Nemo.  And, pressing an\nelectric button, he transmitted an order to the ship's crew.\n\n\"It is all done, sir,\" said he, after some moments.  \"The pinnace is\nready, and the hatches are closed.  You do not fear, I imagine, that\nthese gentlemen could stave in walls on which the balls of your frigate\nhave had no effect?\"\n\n\"No, Captain; but a danger still exists.\"\n\n\"What is that, sir?\"\n\n\"It is that to-morrow, at about this hour, we must open the hatches to\nrenew the air of the Nautilus.  Now, if, at this moment, the Papuans\nshould occupy the platform, I do not see how you could prevent them\nfrom entering.\"\n\n\"Then, sir, you suppose that they will board us?\"\n\n\"I am certain of it.\"\n\n\"Well, sir, let them come.  I see no reason for hindering them.  After\nall, these Papuans are poor creatures, and I am unwilling that my visit\nto the island should cost the life of a single one of these wretches.\"\n\nUpon that I was going away; But Captain Nemo detained me, and asked me\nto sit down by him.  He questioned me with interest about our\nexcursions on shore, and our hunting; and seemed not to understand the\ncraving for meat that possessed the Canadian.  Then the conversation\nturned on various subjects, and, without being more communicative,\nCaptain Nemo showed himself more amiable.\n\nAmongst other things, we happened to speak of the situation of the\nNautilus, run aground in exactly the same spot in this strait where\nDumont d'Urville was nearly lost.  Apropos of this:\n\n\"This D'Urville was one of your great sailors,\" said the Captain to me,\n\"one of your most intelligent navigators.  He is the Captain Cook of\nyou Frenchmen.  Unfortunate man of science, after having braved the\nicebergs of the South Pole, the coral reefs of Oceania, the cannibals\nof the Pacific, to perish miserably in a railway train!  If this\nenergetic man could have reflected during the last moments of his life,\nwhat must have been uppermost in his last thoughts, do you suppose?\"\n\nSo speaking, Captain Nemo seemed moved, and his emotion gave me a\nbetter opinion of him.  Then, chart in hand, we reviewed the travels of\nthe French navigator, his voyages of circumnavigation, his double\ndetention at the South Pole, which led to the discovery of Adelaide and\nLouis Philippe, and fixing the hydrographical bearings of the principal\nislands of Oceania.\n\n\"That which your D'Urville has done on the surface of the seas,\" said\nCaptain Nemo, \"that have I done under them, and more easily, more\ncompletely than he.  The Astrolabe and the Zelee, incessantly tossed\nabout by the hurricane, could not be worth the Nautilus, quiet\nrepository of labour that she is, truly motionless in the midst of the\nwaters.\n\n\"To-morrow,\" added the Captain, rising, \"to-morrow, at twenty minutes\nto three p.m., the Nautilus shall float, and leave the Strait of Torres\nuninjured.\"\n\nHaving curtly pronounced these words, Captain Nemo bowed slightly.\nThis was to dismiss me, and I went back to my room.\n\nThere I found Conseil, who wished to know the result of my interview\nwith the Captain.\n\n\"My boy,\" said I, \"when I feigned to believe that his Nautilus was\nthreatened by the natives of Papua, the Captain answered me very\nsarcastically.  I have but one thing to say to you: Have confidence in\nhim, and go to sleep in peace.\"\n\n\"Have you no need of my services, sir?\"\n\n\"No, my friend.  What is Ned Land doing?\"\n\n\"If you will excuse me, sir,\" answered Conseil, \"friend Ned is busy\nmaking a kangaroo-pie which will be a marvel.\"\n\nI remained alone and went to bed, but slept indifferently.  I heard the\nnoise of the savages, who stamped on the platform, uttering deafening\ncries.  The night passed thus, without disturbing the ordinary repose\nof the crew.  The presence of these cannibals affected them no more\nthan the soldiers of a masked battery care for the ants that crawl over\nits front.\n\nAt six in the morning I rose.  The hatches had not been opened.  The\ninner air was not renewed, but the reservoirs, filled ready for any\nemergency, were now resorted to, and discharged several cubic feet of\noxygen into the exhausted atmosphere of the Nautilus.\n\nI worked in my room till noon, without having seen Captain Nemo, even\nfor an instant.  On board no preparations for departure were visible.\n\nI waited still some time, then went into the large saloon.  The clock\nmarked half-past two.  In ten minutes it would be high-tide: and, if\nCaptain Nemo had not made a rash promise, the Nautilus would be\nimmediately detached.  If not, many months would pass ere she could\nleave her bed of coral.\n\nHowever, some warning vibrations began to be felt in the vessel.  I\nheard the keel grating against the rough calcareous bottom of the coral\nreef.\n\nAt five-and-twenty minutes to three, Captain Nemo appeared in the\nsaloon.\n\n\"We are going to start,\" said he.\n\n\"Ah!\" replied I.\n\n\"I have given the order to open the hatches.\"\n\n\"And the Papuans?\"\n\n\"The Papuans?\" answered Captain Nemo, slightly shrugging his shoulders.\n\n\"Will they not come inside the Nautilus?\"\n\n\"How?\"\n\n\"Only by leaping over the hatches you have opened.\"\n\n\"M. Aronnax,\" quietly answered Captain Nemo, \"they will not enter the\nhatches of the Nautilus in that way, even if they were open.\"\n\nI looked at the Captain.\n\n\"You do not understand?\" said he.\n\n\"Hardly.\"\n\n\"Well, come and you will see.\"\n\nI directed my steps towards the central staircase.  There Ned Land and\nConseil were slyly watching some of the ship's crew, who were opening\nthe hatches, while cries of rage and fearful vociferations resounded\noutside.\n\nThe port lids were pulled down outside.  Twenty horrible faces\nappeared.  But the first native who placed his hand on the stair-rail,\nstruck from behind by some invisible force, I know not what, fled,\nuttering the most fearful cries and making the wildest contortions.\n\nTen of his companions followed him.  They met with the same fate.\n\nConseil was in ecstasy.  Ned Land, carried away by his violent\ninstincts, rushed on to the staircase.  But the moment he seized the\nrail with both hands, he, in his turn, was overthrown.\n\n\"I am struck by a thunderbolt,\" cried he, with an oath.\n\nThis explained all.  It was no rail; but a metallic cable charged with\nelectricity from the deck communicating with the platform.  Whoever\ntouched it felt a powerful shock--and this shock would have been mortal\nif Captain Nemo had discharged into the conductor the whole force of\nthe current.  It might truly be said that between his assailants and\nhimself he had stretched a network of electricity which none could pass\nwith impunity.\n\nMeanwhile, the exasperated Papuans had beaten a retreat paralysed with\nterror.  As for us, half laughing, we consoled and rubbed the\nunfortunate Ned Land, who swore like one possessed.\n\nBut at this moment the Nautilus, raised by the last waves of the tide,\nquitted her coral bed exactly at the fortieth minute fixed by the\nCaptain.  Her screw swept the waters slowly and majestically.  Her\nspeed increased gradually, and, sailing on the surface of the ocean,\nshe quitted safe and sound the dangerous passes of the Straits of\nTorres.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXII\n\n\"AEGRI SOMNIA\"\n\nThe following day 10th January, the Nautilus continued her course\nbetween two seas, but with such remarkable speed that I could not\nestimate it at less than thirty-five miles an hour.  The rapidity of\nher screw was such that I could neither follow nor count its\nrevolutions.  When I reflected that this marvellous electric agent,\nafter having afforded motion, heat, and light to the Nautilus, still\nprotected her from outward attack, and transformed her into an ark of\nsafety which no profane hand might touch without being thunderstricken,\nmy admiration was unbounded, and from the structure it extended to the\nengineer who had called it into existence.\n\nOur course was directed to the west, and on the 11th of January we\ndoubled Cape Wessel, situation in 135° long. and 10° S. lat.,\nwhich forms the east point of the Gulf of Carpentaria.  The reefs were\nstill numerous, but more equalised, and marked on the chart with\nextreme precision.  The Nautilus easily avoided the breakers of Money\nto port and the Victoria reefs to starboard, placed at 130° long.\nand on the 10th parallel, which we strictly followed.\n\nOn the 13th of January, Captain Nemo arrived in the Sea of Timor, and\nrecognised the island of that name in 122° long.\n\nFrom this point the direction of the Nautilus inclined towards the\nsouth-west. Her head was set for the Indian Ocean.  Where would the\nfancy of Captain Nemo carry us next?  Would he return to the coast of\nAsia or would he approach again the shores of Europe?  Improbable\nconjectures both, to a man who fled from inhabited continents.  Then\nwould he descend to the south?  Was he going to double the Cape of Good\nHope, then Cape Horn, and finally go as far as the Antarctic pole?\nWould he come back at last to the Pacific, where his Nautilus could\nsail free and independently?  Time would show.\n\nAfter having skirted the sands of Cartier, of Hibernia, Seringapatam,\nand Scott, last efforts of the solid against the liquid element, on the\n14th of January we lost sight of land altogether.  The speed of the\nNautilus was considerably abated, and with irregular course she\nsometimes swam in the bosom of the waters, sometimes floated on their\nsurface.\n\nDuring this period of the voyage, Captain Nemo made some interesting\nexperiments on the varied temperature of the sea, in different beds.\nUnder ordinary conditions these observations are made by means of\nrather complicated instruments, and with somewhat doubtful results, by\nmeans of thermometrical sounding-leads, the glasses often breaking\nunder the pressure of the water, or an apparatus grounded on the\nvariations of the resistance of metals to the electric currents.\nResults so obtained could not be correctly calculated.  On the\ncontrary, Captain Nemo went himself to test the temperature in the\ndepths of the sea, and his thermometer, placed in communication with\nthe different sheets of water, gave him the required degree immediately\nand accurately.\n\nIt was thus that, either by overloading her reservoirs or by descending\nobliquely by means of her inclined planes, the Nautilus successively\nattained the depth of three, four, five, seven, nine, and ten thousand\nyards, and the definite result of this experience was that the sea\npreserved an average temperature of four degrees and a half at a depth\nof five thousand fathoms under all latitudes.\n\nOn the 16th of January, the Nautilus seemed becalmed only a few yards\nbeneath the surface of the waves.  Her electric apparatus remained\ninactive and her motionless screw left her to drift at the mercy of the\ncurrents.  I supposed that the crew was occupied with interior repairs,\nrendered necessary by the violence of the mechanical movements of the\nmachine.\n\nMy companions and I then witnessed a curious spectacle.  The hatches of\nthe saloon were open, and, as the beacon light of the Nautilus was not\nin action, a dim obscurity reigned in the midst of the waters.  I\nobserved the state of the sea, under these conditions, and the largest\nfish appeared to me no more than scarcely defined shadows, when the\nNautilus found herself suddenly transported into full light.  I thought\nat first that the beacon had been lighted, and was casting its electric\nradiance into the liquid mass.  I was mistaken, and after a rapid\nsurvey perceived my error.\n\nThe Nautilus floated in the midst of a phosphorescent bed which, in\nthis obscurity, became quite dazzling.  It was produced by myriads of\nluminous animalculae, whose brilliancy was increased as they glided\nover the metallic hull of the vessel.  I was surprised by lightning in\nthe midst of these luminous sheets, as though they had been rivulets of\nlead melted in an ardent furnace or metallic masses brought to a white\nheat, so that, by force of contrast, certain portions of light appeared\nto cast a shade in the midst of the general ignition, from which all\nshade seemed banished.  No; this was not the calm irradiation of our\nordinary lightning.  There was unusual life and vigour: this was truly\nliving light!\n\nIn reality, it was an infinite agglomeration of coloured infusoria, of\nveritable globules of jelly, provided with a threadlike tentacle, and\nof which as many as twenty-five thousand have been counted in less than\ntwo cubic half-inches of water.\n\nDuring several hours the Nautilus floated in these brilliant waves, and\nour admiration increased as we watched the marine monsters disporting\nthemselves like salamanders.  I saw there in the midst of this fire\nthat burns not the swift and elegant porpoise (the indefatigable clown\nof the ocean), and some swordfish ten feet long, those prophetic\nheralds of the hurricane whose formidable sword would now and then\nstrike the glass of the saloon.  Then appeared the smaller fish, the\nbalista, the leaping mackerel, wolf-thorn-tails, and a hundred others\nwhich striped the luminous atmosphere as they swam.  This dazzling\nspectacle was enchanting!  Perhaps some atmospheric condition increased\nthe intensity of this phenomenon.  Perhaps some storm agitated the\nsurface of the waves.  But at this depth of some yards, the Nautilus\nwas unmoved by its fury and reposed peacefully in still water.\n\nSo we progressed, incessantly charmed by some new marvel.  The days\npassed rapidly away, and I took no account of them.  Ned, according to\nhabit, tried to vary the diet on board.  Like snails, we were fixed to\nour shells, and I declare it is easy to lead a snail's life.\n\nThus this life seemed easy and natural, and we thought no longer of the\nlife we led on land; but something happened to recall us to the\nstrangeness of our situation.\n\nOn the 18th of January, the Nautilus was in 105° long. and 15°\nS. lat.  The weather was threatening, the sea rough and rolling.  There\nwas a strong east wind.  The barometer, which had been going down for\nsome days, foreboded a coming storm.  I went up on to the platform just\nas the second lieutenant was taking the measure of the horary angles,\nand waited, according to habit till the daily phrase was said.  But on\nthis day it was exchanged for another phrase not less incomprehensible.\nAlmost directly, I saw Captain Nemo appear with a glass, looking\ntowards the horizon.\n\nFor some minutes he was immovable, without taking his eye off the point\nof observation.  Then he lowered his glass and exchanged a few words\nwith his lieutenant.  The latter seemed to be a victim to some emotion\nthat he tried in vain to repress.  Captain Nemo, having more command\nover himself, was cool.  He seemed, too, to be making some objections\nto which the lieutenant replied by formal assurances.  At least I\nconcluded so by the difference of their tones and gestures.  For\nmyself, I had looked carefully in the direction indicated without\nseeing anything.  The sky and water were lost in the clear line of the\nhorizon.\n\nHowever, Captain Nemo walked from one end of the platform to the other,\nwithout looking at me, perhaps without seeing me.  His step was firm,\nbut less regular than usual.  He stopped sometimes, crossed his arms,\nand observed the sea.  What could he be looking for on that immense\nexpanse?\n\nThe Nautilus was then some hundreds of miles from the nearest coast.\n\nThe lieutenant had taken up the glass and examined the horizon\nsteadfastly, going and coming, stamping his foot and showing more\nnervous agitation than his superior officer.  Besides, this mystery\nmust necessarily be solved, and before long; for, upon an order from\nCaptain Nemo, the engine, increasing its propelling power, made the\nscrew turn more rapidly.\n\nJust then the lieutenant drew the Captain's attention again.  The\nlatter stopped walking and directed his glass towards the place\nindicated.  He looked long.  I felt very much puzzled, and descended to\nthe drawing-room, and took out an excellent telescope that I generally\nused.  Then, leaning on the cage of the watch-light that jutted out\nfrom the front of the platform, set myself to look over all the line of\nthe sky and sea.\n\nBut my eye was no sooner applied to the glass than it was quickly\nsnatched out of my hands.\n\nI turned round.  Captain Nemo was before me, but I did not know him.\nHis face was transfigured.  His eyes flashed sullenly; his teeth were\nset; his stiff body, clenched fists, and head shrunk between his\nshoulders, betrayed the violent agitation that pervaded his whole\nframe.  He did not move.  My glass, fallen from his hands, had rolled\nat his feet.\n\nHad I unwittingly provoked this fit of anger?  Did this\nincomprehensible person imagine that I had discovered some forbidden\nsecret?  No; I was not the object of this hatred, for he was not\nlooking at me; his eye was steadily fixed upon the impenetrable point\nof the horizon.  At last Captain Nemo recovered himself.  His agitation\nsubsided.  He addressed some words in a foreign language to his\nlieutenant, then turned to me.  \"M. Aronnax,\" he said, in rather an\nimperious tone, \"I require you to keep one of the conditions that bind\nyou to me.\"\n\n\"What is it, Captain?\"\n\n\"You must be confined, with your companions, until I think fit to\nrelease you.\"\n\n\"You are the master,\" I replied, looking steadily at him.  \"But may I\nask you one question?\"\n\n\"None, sir.\"\n\nThere was no resisting this imperious command, it would have been\nuseless.  I went down to the cabin occupied by Ned Land and Conseil,\nand told them the Captain's determination.  You may judge how this\ncommunication was received by the Canadian.\n\nBut there was not time for altercation.  Four of the crew waited at the\ndoor, and conducted us to that cell where we had passed our first night\non board the Nautilus.\n\nNed Land would have remonstrated, but the door was shut upon him.\n\n\"Will master tell me what this means?\" asked Conseil.\n\nI told my companions what had passed.  They were as much astonished as\nI, and equally at a loss how to account for it.\n\nMeanwhile, I was absorbed in my own reflections, and could think of\nnothing but the strange fear depicted in the Captain's countenance.  I\nwas utterly at a loss to account for it, when my cogitations were\ndisturbed by these words from Ned Land:\n\n\"Hallo! breakfast is ready.\"\n\nAnd indeed the table was laid.  Evidently Captain Nemo had given this\norder at the same time that he had hastened the speed of the Nautilus.\n\n\"Will master permit me to make a recommendation?\" asked Conseil.\n\n\"Yes, my boy.\"\n\n\"Well, it is that master breakfasts.  It is prudent, for we do not know\nwhat may happen.\"\n\n\"You are right, Conseil.\"\n\n\"Unfortunately,\" said Ned Land, \"they have only given us the ship's\nfare.\"\n\n\"Friend Ned,\" asked Conseil, \"what would you have said if the breakfast\nhad been entirely forgotten?\"\n\nThis argument cut short the harpooner's recriminations.\n\nWe sat down to table.  The meal was eaten in silence.\n\nJust then the luminous globe that lighted the cell went out, and left\nus in total darkness.  Ned Land was soon asleep, and what astonished me\nwas that Conseil went off into a heavy slumber.  I was thinking what\ncould have caused his irresistible drowsiness, when I felt my brain\nbecoming stupefied.  In spite of my efforts to keep my eyes open, they\nwould close.  A painful suspicion seized me.  Evidently soporific\nsubstances had been mixed with the food we had just taken.\nImprisonment was not enough to conceal Captain Nemo's projects from us,\nsleep was more necessary.  I then heard the panels shut.  The\nundulations of the sea, which caused a slight rolling motion, ceased.\nHad the Nautilus quitted the surface of the ocean?  Had it gone back to\nthe motionless bed of water?  I tried to resist sleep.  It was\nimpossible.  My breathing grew weak.  I felt a mortal cold freeze my\nstiffened and half-paralysed limbs.  My eye lids, like leaden caps,\nfell over my eyes.  I could not raise them; a morbid sleep, full of\nhallucinations, bereft me of my being.  Then the visions disappeared,\nand left me in complete insensibility.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXIII\n\nTHE CORAL KINGDOM\n\nThe next day I woke with my head singularly clear.  To my great\nsurprise, I was in my own room.  My companions, no doubt, had been\nreinstated in their cabin, without having perceived it any more than I.\nOf what had passed during the night they were as ignorant as I was, and\nto penetrate this mystery I only reckoned upon the chances of the\nfuture.\n\nI then thought of quitting my room.  Was I free again or a prisoner?\nQuite free.  I opened the door, went to the half-deck, went up the\ncentral stairs.  The panels, shut the evening before, were open.  I\nwent on to the platform.\n\nNed Land and Conseil waited there for me.  I questioned them; they knew\nnothing.  Lost in a heavy sleep in which they had been totally\nunconscious, they had been astonished at finding themselves in their\ncabin.\n\nAs for the Nautilus, it seemed quiet and mysterious as ever.  It\nfloated on the surface of the waves at a moderate pace.  Nothing seemed\nchanged on board.\n\nThe second lieutenant then came on to the platform, and gave the usual\norder below.\n\nAs for Captain Nemo, he did not appear.\n\nOf the people on board, I only saw the impassive steward, who served me\nwith his usual dumb regularity.\n\nAbout two o'clock, I was in the drawing-room, busied in arranging my\nnotes, when the Captain opened the door and appeared.  I bowed.  He\nmade a slight inclination in return, without speaking.  I resumed my\nwork, hoping that he would perhaps give me some explanation of the\nevents of the preceding night.  He made none.  I looked at him.  He\nseemed fatigued; his heavy eyes had not been refreshed by sleep; his\nface looked very sorrowful.  He walked to and fro, sat down and got up\nagain, took a chance book, put it down, consulted his instruments\nwithout taking his habitual notes, and seemed restless and uneasy.  At\nlast, he came up to me, and said:\n\n\"Are you a doctor, M. Aronnax?\"\n\nI so little expected such a question that I stared some time at him\nwithout answering.\n\n\"Are you a doctor?\" he repeated.  \"Several of your colleagues have\nstudied medicine.\"\n\n\"Well,\" said I, \"I am a doctor and resident surgeon to the hospital.  I\npractised several years before entering the museum.\"\n\n\"Very well, sir.\"\n\nMy answer had evidently satisfied the Captain.  But, not knowing what\nhe would say next, I waited for other questions, reserving my answers\naccording to circumstances.\n\n\"M. Aronnax, will you consent to prescribe for one of my men?\" he asked.\n\n\"Is he ill?\"\n\n\"Yes.\"\n\n\"I am ready to follow you.\"\n\n\"Come, then.\"\n\nI own my heart beat, I do not know why.  I saw certain connection\nbetween the illness of one of the crew and the events of the day\nbefore; and this mystery interested me at least as much as the sick man.\n\nCaptain Nemo conducted me to the poop of the Nautilus, and took me into\na cabin situated near the sailors' quarters.\n\nThere, on a bed, lay a man about forty years of age, with a resolute\nexpression of countenance, a true type of an Anglo-Saxon.\n\nI leant over him.  He was not only ill, he was wounded.  His head,\nswathed in bandages covered with blood, lay on a pillow.  I undid the\nbandages, and the wounded man looked at me with his large eyes and gave\nno sign of pain as I did it.  It was a horrible wound.  The skull,\nshattered by some deadly weapon, left the brain exposed, which was much\ninjured.  Clots of blood had formed in the bruised and broken mass, in\ncolour like the dregs of wine.\n\nThere was both contusion and suffusion of the brain.  His breathing was\nslow, and some spasmodic movements of the muscles agitated his face.  I\nfelt his pulse.  It was intermittent.  The extremities of the body were\ngrowing cold already, and I saw death must inevitably ensue.  After\ndressing the unfortunate man's wounds, I readjusted the bandages on his\nhead, and turned to Captain Nemo.\n\n\"What caused this wound?\"  I asked.\n\n\"What does it signify?\" he replied, evasively.  \"A shock has broken one\nof the levers of the engine, which struck myself.  But your opinion as\nto his state?\"\n\nI hesitated before giving it.\n\n\"You may speak,\" said the Captain.  \"This man does not understand\nFrench.\"\n\nI gave a last look at the wounded man.\n\n\"He will be dead in two hours.\"\n\n\"Can nothing save him?\"\n\n\"Nothing.\"\n\nCaptain Nemo's hand contracted, and some tears glistened in his eyes,\nwhich I thought incapable of shedding any.\n\nFor some moments I still watched the dying man, whose life ebbed\nslowly.  His pallor increased under the electric light that was shed\nover his death-bed. I looked at his intelligent forehead, furrowed with\npremature wrinkles, produced probably by misfortune and sorrow.  I\ntried to learn the secret of his life from the last words that escaped\nhis lips.\n\n\"You can go now, M. Aronnax,\" said the Captain.\n\nI left him in the dying man's cabin, and returned to my room much\naffected by this scene.  During the whole day, I was haunted by\nuncomfortable suspicions, and at night I slept badly, and between my\nbroken dreams I fancied I heard distant sighs like the notes of a\nfuneral psalm.  Were they the prayers of the dead, murmured in that\nlanguage that I could not understand?\n\nThe next morning I went on to the bridge.  Captain Nemo was there\nbefore me.  As soon as he perceived me he came to me.\n\n\"Professor, will it be convenient to you to make a submarine excursion\nto-day?\"\n\n\"With my companions?\"  I asked.\n\n\"If they like.\"\n\n\"We obey your orders, Captain.\"\n\n\"Will you be so good then as to put on your cork jackets?\"\n\nIt was not a question of dead or dying.  I rejoined Ned Land and\nConseil, and told them of Captain Nemo's proposition.  Conseil hastened\nto accept it, and this time the Canadian seemed quite willing to follow\nour example.\n\nIt was eight o'clock in the morning.  At half-past eight we were\nequipped for this new excursion, and provided with two contrivances for\nlight and breathing.  The double door was open; and, accompanied by\nCaptain Nemo, who was followed by a dozen of the crew, we set foot, at\na depth of about thirty feet, on the solid bottom on which the Nautilus\nrested.\n\nA slight declivity ended in an uneven bottom, at fifteen fathoms depth.\nThis bottom differed entirely from the one I had visited on my first\nexcursion under the waters of the Pacific Ocean.  Here, there was no\nfine sand, no submarine prairies, no sea-forest. I immediately\nrecognised that marvellous region in which, on that day, the Captain\ndid the honours to us.  It was the coral kingdom.\n\nThe light produced a thousand charming varieties, playing in the midst\nof the branches that were so vividly coloured.  I seemed to see the\nmembraneous and cylindrical tubes tremble beneath the undulation of the\nwaters.  I was tempted to gather their fresh petals, ornamented with\ndelicate tentacles, some just blown, the others budding, while a small\nfish, swimming swiftly, touched them slightly, like flights of birds.\nBut if my hand approached these living flowers, these animated,\nsensitive plants, the whole colony took alarm.  The white petals\nre-entered their red cases, the flowers faded as I looked, and the bush\nchanged into a block of stony knobs.\n\nChance had thrown me just by the most precious specimens of the\nzoophyte.  This coral was more valuable than that found in the\nMediterranean, on the coasts of France, Italy and Barbary.  Its tints\njustified the poetical names of \"Flower of Blood,\" and \"Froth of\nBlood,\" that trade has given to its most beautiful productions.  Coral\nis sold for L20 per ounce; and in this place the watery beds would make\nthe fortunes of a company of coral-divers. This precious matter, often\nconfused with other polypi, formed then the inextricable plots called\n\"macciota,\" and on which I noticed several beautiful specimens of pink\ncoral.\n\nBut soon the bushes contract, and the arborisations increase. Real\npetrified thickets, long joints of fantastic architecture, were\ndisclosed before us. Captain Nemo placed himself under a dark gallery,\nwhere by a slight declivity we reached a depth of a hundred yards. The\nlight from our lamps produced sometimes magical effects, following the\nrough outlines of the natural arches and pendants disposed like\nlustres, that were tipped with points of fire.\n\nAt last, after walking two hours, we had attained a depth of about\nthree hundred yards, that is to say, the extreme limit on which coral\nbegins to form.  But there was no isolated bush, nor modest brushwood,\nat the bottom of lofty trees.  It was an immense forest of large\nmineral vegetations, enormous petrified trees, united by garlands of\nelegant sea-bindweed, all adorned with clouds and reflections.  We\npassed freely under their high branches, lost in the shade of the waves.\n\nCaptain Nemo had stopped.  I and my companions halted, and, turning\nround, I saw his men were forming a semi-circle round their chief.\nWatching attentively, I observed that four of them carried on their\nshoulders an object of an oblong shape.\n\nWe occupied, in this place, the centre of a vast glade surrounded by\nthe lofty foliage of the submarine forest.  Our lamps threw over this\nplace a sort of clear twilight that singularly elongated the shadows on\nthe ground.  At the end of the glade the darkness increased, and was\nonly relieved by little sparks reflected by the points of coral.\n\nNed Land and Conseil were near me.  We watched, and I thought I was\ngoing to witness a strange scene.  On observing the ground, I saw that\nit was raised in certain places by slight excrescences encrusted with\nlimy deposits, and disposed with a regularity that betrayed the hand of\nman.\n\nIn the midst of the glade, on a pedestal of rocks roughly piled up,\nstood a cross of coral that extended its long arms that one might have\nthought were made of petrified blood.  Upon a sign from Captain Nemo\none of the men advanced; and at some feet from the cross he began to\ndig a hole with a pickaxe that he took from his belt.  I understood\nall!  This glade was a cemetery, this hole a tomb, this oblong object\nthe body of the man who had died in the night!  The Captain and his men\nhad come to bury their companion in this general resting-place, at the\nbottom of this inaccessible ocean!\n\nThe grave was being dug slowly; the fish fled on all sides while their\nretreat was being thus disturbed; I heard the strokes of the pickaxe,\nwhich sparkled when it hit upon some flint lost at the bottom of the\nwaters.  The hole was soon large and deep enough to receive the body.\nThen the bearers approached; the body, enveloped in a tissue of white\nlinen, was lowered into the damp grave.  Captain Nemo, with his arms\ncrossed on his breast, and all the friends of him who had loved them,\nknelt in prayer.\n\nThe grave was then filled in with the rubbish taken from the ground,\nwhich formed a slight mound.  When this was done, Captain Nemo and his\nmen rose; then, approaching the grave, they knelt again, and all\nextended their hands in sign of a last adieu.  Then the funeral\nprocession returned to the Nautilus, passing under the arches of the\nforest, in the midst of thickets, along the coral bushes, and still on\nthe ascent.  At last the light of the ship appeared, and its luminous\ntrack guided us to the Nautilus.  At one o'clock we had returned.\n\nAs soon as I had changed my clothes I went up on to the platform, and,\na prey to conflicting emotions, I sat down near the binnacle.  Captain\nNemo joined me.  I rose and said to him:\n\n\"So, as I said he would, this man died in the night?\"\n\n\"Yes, M. Aronnax.\"\n\n\"And he rests now, near his companions, in the coral cemetery?\"\n\n\"Yes, forgotten by all else, but not by us.  We dug the grave, and the\npolypi undertake to seal our dead for eternity.\" And, burying his face\nquickly in his hands, he tried in vain to suppress a sob.  Then he\nadded:  \"Our peaceful cemetery is there, some hundred feet below the\nsurface of the waves.\"\n\n\"Your dead sleep quietly, at least, Captain, out of the reach of\nsharks.\"\n\n\"Yes, sir, of sharks and men,\" gravely replied the Captain.\n\n\n\nPART TWO\n\n\n\nCHAPTER I\n\nTHE INDIAN OCEAN\n\nWe now come to the second part of our journey under the sea.  The first\nended with the moving scene in the coral cemetery which left such a\ndeep impression on my mind.  Thus, in the midst of this great sea,\nCaptain Nemo's life was passing, even to his grave, which he had\nprepared in one of its deepest abysses.  There, not one of the ocean's\nmonsters could trouble the last sleep of the crew of the Nautilus, of\nthose friends riveted to each other in death as in life.  \"Nor any man,\neither,\" had added the Captain.  Still the same fierce, implacable\ndefiance towards human society!\n\nI could no longer content myself with the theory which satisfied\nConseil.\n\nThat worthy fellow persisted in seeing in the Commander of the Nautilus\none of those unknown _savants_ who return mankind contempt for\nindifference.  For him, he was a misunderstood genius who, tired of\nearth's deceptions, had taken refuge in this inaccessible medium, where\nhe might follow his instincts freely.  To my mind, this explains but\none side of Captain Nemo's character.  Indeed, the mystery of that last\nnight during which we had been chained in prison, the sleep, and the\nprecaution so violently taken by the Captain of snatching from my eyes\nthe glass I had raised to sweep the horizon, the mortal wound of the\nman, due to an unaccountable shock of the Nautilus, all put me on a new\ntrack.  No; Captain Nemo was not satisfied with shunning man.  His\nformidable apparatus not only suited his instinct of freedom, but\nperhaps also the design of some terrible retaliation.\n\nAt this moment nothing is clear to me; I catch but a glimpse of light\namidst all the darkness, and I must confine myself to writing as events\nshall dictate.\n\nThat day, the 24th of January, 1868, at noon, the second officer came\nto take the altitude of the sun.  I mounted the platform, lit a cigar,\nand watched the operation.  It seemed to me that the man did not\nunderstand French; for several times I made remarks in a loud voice,\nwhich must have drawn from him some involuntary sign of attention, if\nhe had understood them; but he remained undisturbed and dumb.\n\nAs he was taking observations with the sextant, one of the sailors of\nthe Nautilus (the strong man who had accompanied us on our first\nsubmarine excursion to the Island of Crespo) came to clean the glasses\nof the lantern.  I examined the fittings of the apparatus, the strength\nof which was increased a hundredfold by lenticular rings, placed\nsimilar to those in a lighthouse, and which projected their brilliance\nin a horizontal plane.  The electric lamp was combined in such a way as\nto give its most powerful light.  Indeed, it was produced in vacuo,\nwhich insured both its steadiness and its intensity.  This vacuum\neconomised the graphite points between which the luminous arc was\ndeveloped--an important point of economy for Captain Nemo, who could\nnot easily have replaced them; and under these conditions their waste\nwas imperceptible.  When the Nautilus was ready to continue its\nsubmarine journey, I went down to the saloon.  The panel was closed,\nand the course marked direct west.\n\nWe were furrowing the waters of the Indian Ocean, a vast liquid plain,\nwith a surface of 1,200,000,000 of acres, and whose waters are so clear\nand transparent that any one leaning over them would turn giddy.  The\nNautilus usually floated between fifty and a hundred fathoms deep.  We\nwent on so for some days.  To anyone but myself, who had a great love\nfor the sea, the hours would have seemed long and monotonous; but the\ndaily walks on the platform, when I steeped myself in the reviving air\nof the ocean, the sight of the rich waters through the windows of the\nsaloon, the books in the library, the compiling of my memoirs, took up\nall my time, and left me not a moment of ennui or weariness.\n\nFor some days we saw a great number of aquatic birds, sea-mews or\ngulls.  Some were cleverly killed and, prepared in a certain way, made\nvery acceptable water-game. Amongst large-winged birds, carried a long\ndistance from all lands and resting upon the waves from the fatigue of\ntheir flight, I saw some magnificent albatrosses, uttering discordant\ncries like the braying of an ass, and birds belonging to the family of\nthe long-wings.\n\nAs to the fish, they always provoked our admiration when we surprised\nthe secrets of their aquatic life through the open panels.  I saw many\nkinds which I never before had a chance of observing.\n\nI shall notice chiefly ostracions peculiar to the Red Sea, the Indian\nOcean, and that part which washes the coast of tropical America. These\nfishes, like the tortoise, the armadillo, the sea-hedgehog, and the\nCrustacea, are protected by a breastplate which is neither chalky nor\nstony, but real bone. In some it takes the form of a solid triangle, in\nothers of a solid quadrangle. Amongst the triangular I saw some an inch\nand a half in length, with wholesome flesh and a delicious flavour;\nthey are brown at the tail, and yellow at the fins, and I recommend\ntheir introduction into fresh water, to which a certain number of\nsea-fish easily accustom themselves. I would also mention quadrangular\nostracions, having on the back four large tubercles; some dotted over\nwith white spots on the lower part of the body, and which may be tamed\nlike birds; trigons provided with spikes formed by the lengthening of\ntheir bony shell, and which, from their strange gruntings, are called\n\"seapigs\"; also dromedaries with large humps in the shape of a cone,\nwhose flesh is very tough and leathery.\n\nI now borrow from the daily notes of Master Conseil. \"Certain fish of\nthe genus petrodon peculiar to those seas, with red backs and white\nchests, which are distinguished by three rows of longitudinal\nfilaments; and some electrical, seven inches long, decked in the\nliveliest colours.  Then, as specimens of other kinds, some ovoides,\nresembling an egg of a dark brown colour, marked with white bands, and\nwithout tails; diodons, real sea-porcupines, furnished with spikes, and\ncapable of swelling in such a way as to look like cushions bristling\nwith darts; hippocampi, common to every ocean; some pegasi with\nlengthened snouts, which their pectoral fins, being much elongated and\nformed in the shape of wings, allow, if not to fly, at least to shoot\ninto the air; pigeon spatulae, with tails covered with many rings of\nshell; macrognathi with long jaws, an excellent fish, nine inches long,\nand bright with most agreeable colours; pale-coloured calliomores, with\nrugged heads; and plenty of chaetpdons, with long and tubular muzzles,\nwhich kill insects by shooting them, as from an air-gun, with a single\ndrop of water. These we may call the flycatchers of the seas.\n\n\"In the eighty-ninth genus of fishes, classed by Lacepede, belonging to\nthe second lower class of bony, characterised by opercules and\nbronchial membranes, I remarked the scorpaena, the head of which is\nfurnished with spikes, and which has but one dorsal fin; these\ncreatures are covered, or not, with little shells, according to the\nsub-class to which they belong. The second sub-class gives us specimens\nof didactyles fourteen or fifteen inches in length, with yellow rays,\nand heads of a most fantastic appearance. As to the first sub-class, it\ngives several specimens of that singular looking fish appropriately\ncalled a 'seafrog,' with large head, sometimes pierced with holes,\nsometimes swollen with protuberances, bristling with spikes, and\ncovered with tubercles; it has irregular and hideous horns; its body\nand tail are covered with callosities; its sting makes a dangerous\nwound; it is both repugnant and horrible to look at.\"\n\nFrom the 21st to the 23rd of January the Nautilus went at the rate of\ntwo hundred and fifty leagues in twenty-four hours, being five hundred\nand forty miles, or twenty-two miles an hour.  If we recognised so many\ndifferent varieties of fish, it was because, attracted by the electric\nlight, they tried to follow us; the greater part, however, were soon\ndistanced by our speed, though some kept their place in the waters of\nthe Nautilus for a time.  The morning of the 24th, in 12° 5' S.\nlat., and 94° 33' long., we observed Keeling Island, a coral\nformation, planted with magnificent cocos, and which had been visited\nby Mr. Darwin and Captain Fitzroy.  The Nautilus skirted the shores of\nthis desert island for a little distance.  Its nets brought up numerous\nspecimens of polypi and curious shells of mollusca.  Some precious\nproductions of the species of delphinulae enriched the treasures of\nCaptain Nemo, to which I added an astraea punctifera, a kind of\nparasite polypus often found fixed to a shell.\n\nSoon Keeling Island disappeared from the horizon, and our course was\ndirected to the north-west in the direction of the Indian Peninsula.\n\nFrom Keeling Island our course was slower and more variable, often\ntaking us into great depths.  Several times they made use of the\ninclined planes, which certain internal levers placed obliquely to the\nwaterline.  In that way we went about two miles, but without ever\nobtaining the greatest depths of the Indian Sea, which soundings of\nseven thousand fathoms have never reached.  As to the temperature of\nthe lower strata, the thermometer invariably indicated 4° above\nzero.  I only observed that in the upper regions the water was always\ncolder in the high levels than at the surface of the sea.\n\nOn the 25th of January the ocean was entirely deserted; the Nautilus\npassed the day on the surface, beating the waves with its powerful\nscrew and making them rebound to a great height.  Who under such\ncircumstances would not have taken it for a gigantic cetacean?  Three\nparts of this day I spent on the platform.  I watched the sea.  Nothing\non the horizon, till about four o'clock a steamer running west on our\ncounter.  Her masts were visible for an instant, but she could not see\nthe Nautilus, being too low in the water.  I fancied this steamboat\nbelonged to the P.O. Company, which runs from Ceylon to Sydney,\ntouching at King George's Point and Melbourne.\n\nAt five o'clock in the evening, before that fleeting twilight which\nbinds night to day in tropical zones, Conseil and I were astonished by\na curious spectacle.\n\nIt was a shoal of argonauts travelling along on the surface of the\nocean.  We could count several hundreds.  They belonged to the tubercle\nkind which are peculiar to the Indian seas.\n\nThese graceful molluscs moved backwards by means of their locomotive\ntube, through which they propelled the water already drawn in.  Of\ntheir eight tentacles, six were elongated, and stretched out floating\non the water, whilst the other two, rolled up flat, were spread to the\nwing like a light sail.  I saw their spiral-shaped and fluted shells,\nwhich Cuvier justly compares to an elegant skiff.  A boat indeed!  It\nbears the creature which secretes it without its adhering to it.\n\nFor nearly an hour the Nautilus floated in the midst of this shoal of\nmolluscs.  Then I know not what sudden fright they took.  But as if at\na signal every sail was furled, the arms folded, the body drawn in, the\nshells turned over, changing their centre of gravity, and the whole\nfleet disappeared under the waves.  Never did the ships of a squadron\nmanoeuvre with more unity.\n\nAt that moment night fell suddenly, and the reeds, scarcely raised by\nthe breeze, lay peaceably under the sides of the Nautilus.\n\nThe next day, 26th of January, we cut the equator at the eighty-second\nmeridian and entered the northern hemisphere.  During the day a\nformidable troop of sharks accompanied us, terrible creatures, which\nmultiply in these seas and make them very dangerous.  They were\n\"cestracio philippi\" sharks, with brown backs and whitish bellies,\narmed with eleven rows of teeth--eyed sharks--their throat being marked\nwith a large black spot surrounded with white like an eye.  There were\nalso some Isabella sharks, with rounded snouts marked with dark spots.\nThese powerful creatures often hurled themselves at the windows of the\nsaloon with such violence as to make us feel very insecure.  At such\ntimes Ned Land was no longer master of himself.  He wanted to go to the\nsurface and harpoon the monsters, particularly certain smooth-hound\nsharks, whose mouth is studded with teeth like a mosaic; and large\ntiger-sharks nearly six yards long, the last named of which seemed to\nexcite him more particularly.  But the Nautilus, accelerating her\nspeed, easily left the most rapid of them behind.\n\nThe 27th of January, at the entrance of the vast Bay of Bengal, we met\nrepeatedly a forbidding spectacle, dead bodies floating on the surface\nof the water.  They were the dead of the Indian villages, carried by\nthe Ganges to the level of the sea, and which the vultures, the only\nundertakers of the country, had not been able to devour.  But the\nsharks did not fail to help them at their funeral work.\n\nAbout seven o'clock in the evening, the Nautilus, half-immersed, was\nsailing in a sea of milk.  At first sight the ocean seemed lactified.\nWas it the effect of the lunar rays?  No; for the moon, scarcely two\ndays old, was still lying hidden under the horizon in the rays of the\nsun.  The whole sky, though lit by the sidereal rays, seemed black by\ncontrast with the whiteness of the waters.\n\nConseil could not believe his eyes, and questioned me as to the cause\nof this strange phenomenon.  Happily I was able to answer him.\n\n\"It is called a milk sea,\" I explained.  \"A large extent of white\nwavelets often to be seen on the coasts of Amboyna, and in these parts\nof the sea.\"\n\n\"But, sir,\" said Conseil, \"can you tell me what causes such an effect?\nfor I suppose the water is not really turned into milk.\"\n\n\"No, my boy; and the whiteness which surprises you is caused only by\nthe presence of myriads of infusoria, a sort of luminous little worm,\ngelatinous and without colour, of the thickness of a hair, and whose\nlength is not more than seven-thousandths of an inch.  These insects\nadhere to one another sometimes for several leagues.\"\n\n\"Several leagues!\" exclaimed Conseil.\n\n\"Yes, my boy; and you need not try to compute the number of these\ninfusoria.  You will not be able, for, if I am not mistaken, ships have\nfloated on these milk seas for more than forty miles.\"\n\nTowards midnight the sea suddenly resumed its usual colour; but behind\nus, even to the limits of the horizon, the sky reflected the whitened\nwaves, and for a long time seemed impregnated with the vague\nglimmerings of an aurora borealis.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER II\n\nA NOVEL PROPOSAL OF CAPTAIN NEMO'S\n\nOn the 28th of February, when at noon the Nautilus came to the surface\nof the sea, in 9° 4' N. lat., there was land in sight about eight\nmiles to westward.  The first thing I noticed was a range of mountains\nabout two thousand feet high, the shapes of which were most capricious.\nOn taking the bearings, I knew that we were nearing the island of\nCeylon, the pearl which hangs from the lobe of the Indian Peninsula.\n\nCaptain Nemo and his second appeared at this moment.  The Captain\nglanced at the map.  Then turning to me, said:\n\n\"The Island of Ceylon, noted for its pearl-fisheries. Would you like to\nvisit one of them, M. Aronnax?\"\n\n\"Certainly, Captain.\"\n\n\"Well, the thing is easy.  Though, if we see the fisheries, we shall\nnot see the fishermen.  The annual exportation has not yet begun.\nNever mind, I will give orders to make for the Gulf of Manaar, where we\nshall arrive in the night.\"\n\nThe Captain said something to his second, who immediately went out.\nSoon the Nautilus returned to her native element, and the manometer\nshowed that she was about thirty feet deep.\n\n\"Well, sir,\" said Captain Nemo, \"you and your companions shall visit\nthe Bank of Manaar, and if by chance some fisherman should be there, we\nshall see him at work.\"\n\n\"Agreed, Captain!\"\n\n\"By the bye, M. Aronnax you are not afraid of sharks?\"\n\n\"Sharks!\" exclaimed I.\n\nThis question seemed a very hard one.\n\n\"Well?\" continued Captain Nemo.\n\n\"I admit, Captain, that I am not yet very familiar with that kind of\nfish.\"\n\n\"We are accustomed to them,\" replied Captain Nemo, \"and in time you\nwill be too.  However, we shall be armed, and on the road we may be\nable to hunt some of the tribe.  It is interesting.  So, till\nto-morrow, sir, and early.\"\n\nThis said in a careless tone, Captain Nemo left the saloon.  Now, if\nyou were invited to hunt the bear in the mountains of Switzerland, what\nwould you say?\n\n\"Very well! to-morrow we will go and hunt the bear.\" If you were asked\nto hunt the lion in the plains of Atlas, or the tiger in the Indian\njungles, what would you say?\n\n\"Ha! ha! it seems we are going to hunt the tiger or the lion!\" But when\nyou are invited to hunt the shark in its natural element, you would\nperhaps reflect before accepting the invitation.  As for myself, I\npassed my hand over my forehead, on which stood large drops of cold\nperspiration.  \"Let us reflect,\" said I, \"and take our time.  Hunting\notters in submarine forests, as we did in the Island of Crespo, will\npass; but going up and down at the bottom of the sea, where one is\nalmost certain to meet sharks, is quite another thing!  I know well\nthat in certain countries, particularly in the Andaman Islands, the\nnegroes never hesitate to attack them with a dagger in one hand and a\nrunning noose in the other; but I also know that few who affront those\ncreatures ever return alive.  However, I am not a negro, and if I were\nI think a little hesitation in this case would not be ill-timed.\"\n\nAt this moment Conseil and the Canadian entered, quite composed, and\neven joyous.  They knew not what awaited them.\n\n\"Faith, sir,\" said Ned Land, \"your Captain Nemo--the devil take\nhim!--has just made us a very pleasant offer.\"\n\n\"Ah!\" said I, \"you know?\"\n\n\"If agreeable to you, sir,\" interrupted Conseil, \"the commander of the\nNautilus has invited us to visit the magnificent Ceylon fisheries\nto-morrow, in your company; he did it kindly, and behaved like a real\ngentleman.\"\n\n\"He said nothing more?\"\n\n\"Nothing more, sir, except that he had already spoken to you of this\nlittle walk.\"\n\n\"Sir,\" said Conseil, \"would you give us some details of the pearl\nfishery?\"\n\n\"As to the fishing itself,\" I asked, \"or the incidents, which?\"\n\n\"On the fishing,\" replied the Canadian; \"before entering upon the\nground, it is as well to know something about it.\"\n\n\"Very well; sit down, my friends, and I will teach you.\"\n\nNed and Conseil seated themselves on an ottoman, and the first thing\nthe Canadian asked was:\n\n\"Sir, what is a pearl?\"\n\n\"My worthy Ned,\" I answered, \"to the poet, a pearl is a tear of the\nsea; to the Orientals, it is a drop of dew solidified; to the ladies,\nit is a jewel of an oblong shape, of a brilliancy of mother-of-pearl\nsubstance, which they wear on their fingers, their necks, or their\nears; for the chemist it is a mixture of phosphate and carbonate of\nlime, with a little gelatine; and lastly, for naturalists, it is simply\na morbid secretion of the organ that produces the mother-of-pearl\namongst certain bivalves.\"\n\n\"Branch of molluscs,\" said Conseil.\n\n\"Precisely so, my learned Conseil; and, amongst these testacea the\nearshell, the tridacnae, the turbots, in a word, all those which\nsecrete mother-of-pearl, that is, the blue, bluish, violet, or white\nsubstance which lines the interior of their shells, are capable of\nproducing pearls.\"\n\n\"Mussels too?\" asked the Canadian.\n\n\"Yes, mussels of certain waters in Scotland, Wales, Ireland, Saxony,\nBohemia, and France.\"\n\n\"Good!  For the future I shall pay attention,\" replied the Canadian.\n\n\"But,\" I continued, \"the particular mollusc which secretes the pearl is\nthe pearl-oyster, the meleagrina margaritiferct, that precious\npintadine. The pearl is nothing but a nacreous formation, deposited in\na globular form, either adhering to the oyster shell, or buried in the\nfolds of the creature. On the shell it is fast; in the flesh it is\nloose; but always has for a kernel a small hard substance, may be a\nbarren egg, may be a grain of sand, around which the pearly matter\ndeposits itself year after year successively, and by thin concentric\nlayers.\"\n\n\"Are many pearls found in the same oyster?\" asked Conseil.\n\n\"Yes, my boy.  Some are a perfect casket.  One oyster has been\nmentioned, though I allow myself to doubt it, as having contained no\nless than a hundred and fifty sharks.\"\n\n\"A hundred and fifty sharks!\" exclaimed Ned Land.\n\n\"Did I say sharks?\" said I hurriedly.  \"I meant to say a hundred and\nfifty pearls.  Sharks would not be sense.\"\n\n\"Certainly not,\" said Conseil; \"but will you tell us now by what means\nthey extract these pearls?\"\n\n\"They proceed in various ways.  When they adhere to the shell, the\nfishermen often pull them off with pincers; but the most common way is\nto lay the oysters on mats of the seaweed which covers the banks.  Thus\nthey die in the open air; and at the end of ten days they are in a\nforward state of decomposition.  They are then plunged into large\nreservoirs of sea-water; then they are opened and washed.\"\n\n\"The price of these pearls varies according to their size?\" asked\nConseil.\n\n\"Not only according to their size,\" I answered, \"but also according to\ntheir shape, their water (that is, their colour), and their lustre:\nthat is, that bright and diapered sparkle which makes them so charming\nto the eye.  The most beautiful are called virgin pearls, or paragons.\nThey are formed alone in the tissue of the mollusc, are white, often\nopaque, and sometimes have the transparency of an opal; they are\ngenerally round or oval.  The round are made into bracelets, the oval\ninto pendants, and, being more precious, are sold singly.  Those\nadhering to the shell of the oyster are more irregular in shape, and\nare sold by weight.  Lastly, in a lower order are classed those small\npearls known under the name of seed-pearls; they are sold by measure,\nand are especially used in embroidery for church ornaments.\"\n\n\"But,\" said Conseil, \"is this pearl-fishery dangerous?\"\n\n\"No,\" I answered, quickly; \"particularly if certain precautions are\ntaken.\"\n\n\"What does one risk in such a calling?\" said Ned Land, \"the swallowing\nof some mouthfuls of sea-water?\"\n\n\"As you say, Ned.  By the bye,\" said I, trying to take Captain Nemo's\ncareless tone, \"are you afraid of sharks, brave Ned?\"\n\n\"I!\" replied the Canadian; \"a harpooner by profession?  It is my trade\nto make light of them.\"\n\n\"But,\" said I, \"it is not a question of fishing for them with an\niron-swivel, hoisting them into the vessel, cutting off their tails\nwith a blow of a chopper, ripping them up, and throwing their heart\ninto the sea!\"\n\n\"Then, it is a question of----\"\n\n\"Precisely.\"\n\n\"In the water?\"\n\n\"In the water.\"\n\n\"Faith, with a good harpoon!  You know, sir, these sharks are\nill-fashioned beasts.  They turn on their bellies to seize you, and in\nthat time----\"\n\nNed Land had a way of saying \"seize\" which made my blood run cold.\n\n\"Well, and you, Conseil, what do you think of sharks?\"\n\n\"Me!\" said Conseil.  \"I will be frank, sir.\"\n\n\"So much the better,\" thought I.\n\n\"If you, sir, mean to face the sharks, I do not see why your faithful\nservant should not face them with you.\"\n\n\n\nCHAPTER III\n\nA PEARL OF TEN MILLIONS\n\nThe next morning at four o'clock I was awakened by the steward whom\nCaptain Nemo had placed at my service.  I rose hurriedly, dressed, and\nwent into the saloon.\n\nCaptain Nemo was awaiting me.\n\n\"M. Aronnax,\" said he, \"are you ready to start?\"\n\n\"I am ready.\"\n\n\"Then please to follow me.\"\n\n\"And my companions, Captain?\"\n\n\"They have been told and are waiting.\"\n\n\"Are we not to put on our diver's dresses?\" asked I.\n\n\"Not yet.  I have not allowed the Nautilus to come too near this coast,\nand we are some distance from the Manaar Bank; but the boat is ready,\nand will take us to the exact point of disembarking, which will save us\na long way.  It carries our diving apparatus, which we will put on when\nwe begin our submarine journey.\"\n\nCaptain Nemo conducted me to the central staircase, which led on the\nplatform.  Ned and Conseil were already there, delighted at the idea of\nthe \"pleasure party\" which was preparing.  Five sailors from the\nNautilus, with their oars, waited in the boat, which had been made fast\nagainst the side.\n\nThe night was still dark.  Layers of clouds covered the sky, allowing\nbut few stars to be seen.  I looked on the side where the land lay, and\nsaw nothing but a dark line enclosing three parts of the horizon, from\nsouth-west to north west.  The Nautilus, having returned during the\nnight up the western coast of Ceylon, was now west of the bay, or\nrather gulf, formed by the mainland and the Island of Manaar.  There,\nunder the dark waters, stretched the pintadine bank, an inexhaustible\nfield of pearls, the length of which is more than twenty miles.\n\nCaptain Nemo, Ned Land, Conseil, and I took our places in the stern of\nthe boat.  The master went to the tiller; his four companions leaned on\ntheir oars, the painter was cast off, and we sheered off.\n\nThe boat went towards the south; the oarsmen did not hurry.  I noticed\nthat their strokes, strong in the water, only followed each other every\nten seconds, according to the method generally adopted in the navy.\nWhilst the craft was running by its own velocity, the liquid drops\nstruck the dark depths of the waves crisply like spats of melted lead.\nA little billow, spreading wide, gave a slight roll to the boat, and\nsome samphire reeds flapped before it.\n\nWe were silent.  What was Captain Nemo thinking of?  Perhaps of the\nland he was approaching, and which he found too near to him, contrary\nto the Canadian's opinion, who thought it too far off.  As to Conseil,\nhe was merely there from curiosity.\n\nAbout half-past five the first tints on the horizon showed the upper\nline of coast more distinctly.  Flat enough in the east, it rose a\nlittle to the south.  Five miles still lay between us, and it was\nindistinct owing to the mist on the water.  At six o'clock it became\nsuddenly daylight, with that rapidity peculiar to tropical regions,\nwhich know neither dawn nor twilight.  The solar rays pierced the\ncurtain of clouds, piled up on the eastern horizon, and the radiant orb\nrose rapidly.  I saw land distinctly, with a few trees scattered here\nand there.  The boat neared Manaar Island, which was rounded to the\nsouth.  Captain Nemo rose from his seat and watched the sea.\n\nAt a sign from him the anchor was dropped, but the chain scarcely ran,\nfor it was little more than a yard deep, and this spot was one of the\nhighest points of the bank of pintadines.\n\n\"Here we are, M. Aronnax,\" said Captain Nemo.  \"You see that enclosed\nbay?  Here, in a month will be assembled the numerous fishing boats of\nthe exporters, and these are the waters their divers will ransack so\nboldly.  Happily, this bay is well situated for that kind of fishing.\nIt is sheltered from the strongest winds; the sea is never very rough\nhere, which makes it favourable for the diver's work.  We will now put\non our dresses, and begin our walk.\"\n\nI did not answer, and, while watching the suspected waves, began with\nthe help of the sailors to put on my heavy sea-dress. Captain Nemo and\nmy companions were also dressing.  None of the Nautilus men were to\naccompany us on this new excursion.\n\nSoon we were enveloped to the throat in india-rubber clothing; the air\napparatus fixed to our backs by braces.  As to the Ruhmkorff apparatus,\nthere was no necessity for it.  Before putting my head into the copper\ncap, I had asked the question of the Captain.\n\n\"They would be useless,\" he replied.  \"We are going to no great depth,\nand the solar rays will be enough to light our walk.  Besides, it would\nnot be prudent to carry the electric light in these waters; its\nbrilliancy might attract some of the dangerous inhabitants of the coast\nmost inopportunely.\"\n\nAs Captain Nemo pronounced these words, I turned to Conseil and Ned\nLand.  But my two friends had already encased their heads in the metal\ncap, and they could neither hear nor answer.\n\nOne last question remained to ask of Captain Nemo.\n\n\"And our arms?\" asked I; \"our guns?\"\n\n\"Guns!  What for?  Do not mountaineers attack the bear with a dagger in\ntheir hand, and is not steel surer than lead?  Here is a strong blade;\nput it in your belt, and we start.\"\n\nI looked at my companions; they were armed like us, and, more than\nthat, Ned Land was brandishing an enormous harpoon, which he had placed\nin the boat before leaving the Nautilus.\n\nThen, following the Captain's example, I allowed myself to be dressed\nin the heavy copper helmet, and our reservoirs of air were at once in\nactivity.  An instant after we were landed, one after the other, in\nabout two yards of water upon an even sand.  Captain Nemo made a sign\nwith his hand, and we followed him by a gentle declivity till we\ndisappeared under the waves.\n\nOver our feet, like coveys of snipe in a bog, rose shoals of fish, of\nthe genus monoptera, which have no other fins but their tail. I\nrecognized the Javanese, a real serpent two and a half feet long, of a\nlivid colour underneath, and which might easily be mistaken for a\nconger eel if it were not for the golden stripes on its side. In the\ngenus stromateus, whose bodies are very flat and oval, I saw some of\nthe most brilliant colours, carrying their dorsal fin like a scythe; an\nexcellent eating fish, which, dried and pickled, is known by the name\nof Karawade; then some tranquebars, belonging to the genus\napsiphoroides, whose body is covered with a shell cuirass of eight\nlongitudinal plates.\n\nThe heightening sun lit the mass of waters more and more. The soil\nchanged by degrees. To the fine sand succeeded a perfect causeway of\nboulders, covered with a carpet of molluscs and zoophytes. Amongst the\nspecimens of these branches I noticed some placenae, with thin unequal\nshells, a kind of ostracion peculiar to the Red Sea and the Indian\nOcean; some orange lucinae with rounded shells; rockfish three feet and\na half long, which raised themselves under the waves like hands ready\nto seize one. There were also some panopyres, slightly luminous; and\nlastly, some oculines, like magnificent fans, forming one of the\nrichest vegetations of these seas.\n\nIn the midst of these living plants, and under the arbours of the\nhydrophytes, were layers of clumsy articulates, particularly some\nraninae, whose carapace formed a slightly rounded triangle; and some\nhorrible looking parthenopes.\n\nAt about seven o'clock we found ourselves at last surveying the\noyster-banks on which the pearl-oysters are reproduced by millions.\n\nCaptain Nemo pointed with his hand to the enormous heap of oysters; and\nI could well understand that this mine was inexhaustible, for Nature's\ncreative power is far beyond man's instinct of destruction.  Ned Land,\nfaithful to his instinct, hastened to fill a net which he carried by\nhis side with some of the finest specimens.  But we could not stop.  We\nmust follow the Captain, who seemed to guide him self by paths known\nonly to himself.  The ground was sensibly rising, and sometimes, on\nholding up my arm, it was above the surface of the sea.  Then the level\nof the bank would sink capriciously.  Often we rounded high rocks\nscarped into pyramids.  In their dark fractures huge crustacea, perched\nupon their high claws like some war-machine, watched us with fixed\neyes, and under our feet crawled various kinds of annelides.\n\nAt this moment there opened before us a large grotto dug in a\npicturesque heap of rocks and carpeted with all the thick warp of the\nsubmarine flora.  At first it seemed very dark to me.  The solar rays\nseemed to be extinguished by successive gradations, until its vague\ntransparency became nothing more than drowned light.  Captain Nemo\nentered; we followed.  My eyes soon accustomed themselves to this\nrelative state of darkness.  I could distinguish the arches springing\ncapriciously from natural pillars, standing broad upon their granite\nbase, like the heavy columns of Tuscan architecture.  Why had our\nincomprehensible guide led us to the bottom of this submarine crypt?  I\nwas soon to know.  After descending a rather sharp declivity, our feet\ntrod the bottom of a kind of circular pit.  There Captain Nemo stopped,\nand with his hand indicated an object I had not yet perceived.  It was\nan oyster of extraordinary dimensions, a gigantic tridacne, a goblet\nwhich could have contained a whole lake of holy-water, a basin the\nbreadth of which was more than two yards and a half, and consequently\nlarger than that ornamenting the saloon of the Nautilus.  I approached\nthis extraordinary mollusc.  It adhered by its filaments to a table of\ngranite, and there, isolated, it developed itself in the calm waters of\nthe grotto.  I estimated the weight of this tridacne at 600 lb.  Such\nan oyster would contain 30 lb. of meat; and one must have the stomach\nof a Gargantua to demolish some dozens of them.\n\nCaptain Nemo was evidently acquainted with the existence of this\nbivalve, and seemed to have a particular motive in verifying the actual\nstate of this tridacne.  The shells were a little open; the Captain\ncame near and put his dagger between to prevent them from closing; then\nwith his hand he raised the membrane with its fringed edges, which\nformed a cloak for the creature.  There, between the folded plaits, I\nsaw a loose pearl, whose size equalled that of a coco-nut. Its globular\nshape, perfect clearness, and admirable lustre made it altogether a\njewel of inestimable value.  Carried away by my curiosity, I stretched\nout my hand to seize it, weigh it, and touch it; but the Captain\nstopped me, made a sign of refusal, and quickly withdrew his dagger,\nand the two shells closed suddenly.  I then understood Captain Nemo's\nintention.  In leaving this pearl hidden in the mantle of the tridacne\nhe was allowing it to grow slowly.  Each year the secretions of the\nmollusc would add new concentric circles.  I estimated its value at\nL500,000 at least.\n\nAfter ten minutes Captain Nemo stopped suddenly.  I thought he had\nhalted previously to returning.  No; by a gesture he bade us crouch\nbeside him in a deep fracture of the rock, his hand pointed to one part\nof the liquid mass, which I watched attentively.\n\nAbout five yards from me a shadow appeared, and sank to the ground.\nThe disquieting idea of sharks shot through my mind, but I was\nmistaken; and once again it was not a monster of the ocean that we had\nanything to do with.\n\nIt was a man, a living man, an Indian, a fisherman, a poor devil who, I\nsuppose, had come to glean before the harvest.  I could see the bottom\nof his canoe anchored some feet above his head.  He dived and went up\nsuccessively.  A stone held between his feet, cut in the shape of a\nsugar loaf, whilst a rope fastened him to his boat, helped him to\ndescend more rapidly.  This was all his apparatus.  Reaching the\nbottom, about five yards deep, he went on his knees and filled his bag\nwith oysters picked up at random.  Then he went up, emptied it, pulled\nup his stone, and began the operation once more, which lasted thirty\nseconds.\n\nThe diver did not see us.  The shadow of the rock hid us from sight.\nAnd how should this poor Indian ever dream that men, beings like\nhimself, should be there under the water watching his movements and\nlosing no detail of the fishing?  Several times he went up in this way,\nand dived again.  He did not carry away more than ten at each plunge,\nfor he was obliged to pull them from the bank to which they adhered by\nmeans of their strong byssus.  And how many of those oysters for which\nhe risked his life had no pearl in them!  I watched him closely; his\nmanoeuvres were regular; and for the space of half an hour no danger\nappeared to threaten him.\n\nI was beginning to accustom myself to the sight of this interesting\nfishing, when suddenly, as the Indian was on the ground, I saw him make\na gesture of terror, rise, and make a spring to return to the surface\nof the sea.\n\nI understood his dread.  A gigantic shadow appeared just above the\nunfortunate diver.  It was a shark of enormous size advancing\ndiagonally, his eyes on fire, and his jaws open.  I was mute with\nhorror and unable to move.\n\nThe voracious creature shot towards the Indian, who threw himself on\none side to avoid the shark's fins; but not its tail, for it struck his\nchest and stretched him on the ground.\n\nThis scene lasted but a few seconds:  the shark returned, and, turning\non his back, prepared himself for cutting the Indian in two, when I saw\nCaptain Nemo rise suddenly, and then, dagger in hand, walk straight to\nthe monster, ready to fight face to face with him.  The very moment the\nshark was going to snap the unhappy fisherman in two, he perceived his\nnew adversary, and, turning over, made straight towards him.\n\nI can still see Captain Nemo's position.  Holding himself well\ntogether, he waited for the shark with admirable coolness; and, when it\nrushed at him, threw himself on one side with wonderful quickness,\navoiding the shock, and burying his dagger deep into its side.  But it\nwas not all over.  A terrible combat ensued.\n\nThe shark had seemed to roar, if I might say so.  The blood rushed in\ntorrents from its wound.  The sea was dyed red, and through the opaque\nliquid I could distinguish nothing more.  Nothing more until the moment\nwhen, like lightning, I saw the undaunted Captain hanging on to one of\nthe creature's fins, struggling, as it were, hand to hand with the\nmonster, and dealing successive blows at his enemy, yet still unable to\ngive a decisive one.\n\nThe shark's struggles agitated the water with such fury that the\nrocking threatened to upset me.\n\nI wanted to go to the Captain's assistance, but, nailed to the spot\nwith horror, I could not stir.\n\nI saw the haggard eye; I saw the different phases of the fight.  The\nCaptain fell to the earth, upset by the enormous mass which leant upon\nhim.  The shark's jaws opened wide, like a pair of factory shears, and\nit would have been all over with the Captain; but, quick as thought,\nharpoon in hand, Ned Land rushed towards the shark and struck it with\nits sharp point.\n\nThe waves were impregnated with a mass of blood.  They rocked under the\nshark's movements, which beat them with indescribable fury.  Ned Land\nhad not missed his aim.  It was the monster's death-rattle.  Struck to\nthe heart, it struggled in dreadful convulsions, the shock of which\noverthrew Conseil.\n\nBut Ned Land had disentangled the Captain, who, getting up without any\nwound, went straight to the Indian, quickly cut the cord which held him\nto his stone, took him in his arms, and, with a sharp blow of his heel,\nmounted to the surface.\n\nWe all three followed in a few seconds, saved by a miracle, and reached\nthe fisherman's boat.\n\nCaptain Nemo's first care was to recall the unfortunate man to life\nagain.  I did not think he could succeed.  I hoped so, for the poor\ncreature's immersion was not long; but the blow from the shark's tail\nmight have been his death-blow.\n\nHappily, with the Captain's and Conseil's sharp friction, I saw\nconsciousness return by degrees.  He opened his eyes.  What was his\nsurprise, his terror even, at seeing four great copper heads leaning\nover him!  And, above all, what must he have thought when Captain Nemo,\ndrawing from the pocket of his dress a bag of pearls, placed it in his\nhand!  This munificent charity from the man of the waters to the poor\nCingalese was accepted with a trembling hand.  His wondering eyes\nshowed that he knew not to what super-human beings he owed both fortune\nand life.\n\nAt a sign from the Captain we regained the bank, and, following the\nroad already traversed, came in about half an hour to the anchor which\nheld the canoe of the Nautilus to the earth.\n\nOnce on board, we each, with the help of the sailors, got rid of the\nheavy copper helmet.\n\nCaptain Nemo's first word was to the Canadian.\n\n\"Thank you, Master Land,\" said he.\n\n\"It was in revenge, Captain,\" replied Ned Land.  \"I owed you that.\"\n\nA ghastly smile passed across the Captain's lips, and that was all.\n\n\"To the Nautilus,\" said he.\n\nThe boat flew over the waves.  Some minutes after we met the shark's\ndead body floating.  By the black marking of the extremity of its fins,\nI recognised the terrible melanopteron of the Indian Seas, of the\nspecies of shark so properly called.  It was more than twenty-five feet\nlong; its enormous mouth occupied one-third of its body.  It was an\nadult, as was known by its six rows of teeth placed in an isosceles\ntriangle in the upper jaw.\n\nWhilst I was contemplating this inert mass, a dozen of these voracious\nbeasts appeared round the boat; and, without noticing us, threw\nthemselves upon the dead body and fought with one another for the\npieces.\n\nAt half-past eight we were again on board the Nautilus.  There I\nreflected on the incidents which had taken place in our excursion to\nthe Manaar Bank.\n\nTwo conclusions I must inevitably draw from it--one bearing upon the\nunparalleled courage of Captain Nemo, the other upon his devotion to a\nhuman being, a representative of that race from which he fled beneath\nthe sea.  Whatever he might say, this strange man had not yet succeeded\nin entirely crushing his heart.\n\nWhen I made this observation to him, he answered in a slightly moved\ntone:\n\n\"That Indian, sir, is an inhabitant of an oppressed country; and I am\nstill, and shall be, to my last breath, one of them!\"\n\n\n\nCHAPTER IV\n\nTHE RED SEA\n\nIn the course of the day of the 29th of January, the island of Ceylon\ndisappeared under the horizon, and the Nautilus, at a speed of twenty\nmiles an hour, slid into the labyrinth of canals which separate the\nMaldives from the Laccadives.  It coasted even the Island of Kiltan, a\nland originally coraline, discovered by Vasco da Gama in 1499, and one\nof the nineteen principal islands of the Laccadive Archipelago,\nsituated between 10° and 14° 30' N. lat., and 69° 50' 72\"\nE. long.\n\nWe had made 16,220 miles, or 7,500 (French) leagues from our\nstarting-point in the Japanese Seas.\n\nThe next day (30th January), when the Nautilus went to the surface of\nthe ocean there was no land in sight.  Its course was N.N.E., in the\ndirection of the Sea of Oman, between Arabia and the Indian Peninsula,\nwhich serves as an outlet to the Persian Gulf.  It was evidently a\nblock without any possible egress.  Where was Captain Nemo taking us\nto?  I could not say.  This, however, did not satisfy the Canadian, who\nthat day came to me asking where we were going.\n\n\"We are going where our Captain's fancy takes us, Master Ned.\"\n\n\"His fancy cannot take us far, then,\" said the Canadian.  \"The Persian\nGulf has no outlet:  and, if we do go in, it will not be long before we\nare out again.\"\n\n\"Very well, then, we will come out again, Master Land; and if, after\nthe Persian Gulf, the Nautilus would like to visit the Red Sea, the\nStraits of Bab-el-mandeb are there to give us entrance.\"\n\n\"I need not tell you, sir,\" said Ned Land, \"that the Red Sea is as much\nclosed as the Gulf, as the Isthmus of Suez is not yet cut; and, if it\nwas, a boat as mysterious as ours would not risk itself in a canal cut\nwith sluices.  And again, the Red Sea is not the road to take us back\nto Europe.\"\n\n\"But I never said we were going back to Europe.\"\n\n\"What do you suppose, then?\"\n\n\"I suppose that, after visiting the curious coasts of Arabia and Egypt,\nthe Nautilus will go down the Indian Ocean again, perhaps cross the\nChannel of Mozambique, perhaps off the Mascarenhas, so as to gain the\nCape of Good Hope.\"\n\n\"And once at the Cape of Good Hope?\" asked the Canadian, with peculiar\nemphasis.\n\n\"Well, we shall penetrate into that Atlantic which we do not yet know.\nAh! friend Ned, you are getting tired of this journey under the sea;\nyou are surfeited with the incessantly varying spectacle of submarine\nwonders.  For my part, I shall be sorry to see the end of a voyage\nwhich it is given to so few men to make.\"\n\nFor four days, till the 3rd of February, the Nautilus scoured the Sea\nof Oman, at various speeds and at various depths.  It seemed to go at\nrandom, as if hesitating as to which road it should follow, but we\nnever passed the Tropic of Cancer.\n\nIn quitting this sea we sighted Muscat for an instant, one of the most\nimportant towns of the country of Oman.  I admired its strange aspect,\nsurrounded by black rocks upon which its white houses and forts stood\nin relief.  I saw the rounded domes of its mosques, the elegant points\nof its minarets, its fresh and verdant terraces.  But it was only a\nvision!  The Nautilus soon sank under the waves of that part of the sea.\n\nWe passed along the Arabian coast of Mahrah and Hadramaut, for a\ndistance of six miles, its undulating line of mountains being\noccasionally relieved by some ancient ruin.  The 5th of February we at\nlast entered the Gulf of Aden, a perfect funnel introduced into the\nneck of Bab-el-mandeb, through which the Indian waters entered the Red\nSea.\n\nThe 6th of February, the Nautilus floated in sight of Aden, perched\nupon a promontory which a narrow isthmus joins to the mainland, a kind\nof inaccessible Gibraltar, the fortifications of which were rebuilt by\nthe English after taking possession in 1839.  I caught a glimpse of the\noctagon minarets of this town, which was at one time the richest\ncommercial magazine on the coast.\n\nI certainly thought that Captain Nemo, arrived at this point, would\nback out again; but I was mistaken, for he did no such thing, much to\nmy surprise.\n\nThe next day, the 7th of February, we entered the Straits of\nBab-el-mandeb, the name of which, in the Arab tongue, means The Gate of\nTears.\n\nTo twenty miles in breadth, it is only thirty-two in length.  And for\nthe Nautilus, starting at full speed, the crossing was scarcely the\nwork of an hour.  But I saw nothing, not even the Island of Perim, with\nwhich the British Government has fortified the position of Aden.  There\nwere too many English or French steamers of the line of Suez to Bombay,\nCalcutta to Melbourne, and from Bourbon to the Mauritius, furrowing\nthis narrow passage, for the Nautilus to venture to show itself.  So it\nremained prudently below.  At last about noon, we were in the waters of\nthe Red Sea.\n\nI would not even seek to understand the caprice which had decided\nCaptain Nemo upon entering the gulf.  But I quite approved of the\nNautilus entering it.  Its speed was lessened:  sometimes it kept on\nthe surface, sometimes it dived to avoid a vessel, and thus I was able\nto observe the upper and lower parts of this curious sea.\n\nThe 8th of February, from the first dawn of day, Mocha came in sight,\nnow a ruined town, whose walls would fall at a gunshot, yet which\nshelters here and there some verdant date-trees; once an important\ncity, containing six public markets, and twenty-six mosques, and whose\nwalls, defended by fourteen forts, formed a girdle of two miles in\ncircumference.\n\nThe Nautilus then approached the African shore, where the depth of the\nsea was greater.  There, between two waters clear as crystal, through\nthe open panels we were allowed to contemplate the beautiful bushes of\nbrilliant coral and large blocks of rock clothed with a splendid fur of\ngreen variety of sites and landscapes along these sandbanks and algae\nand fuci.  What an indescribable spectacle, and what variety of sites\nand landscapes along these sandbanks and volcanic islands which bound\nthe Libyan coast!  But where these shrubs appeared in all their beauty\nwas on the eastern coast, which the Nautilus soon gained.  It was on\nthe coast of Tehama, for there not only did this display of zoophytes\nflourish beneath the level of the sea, but they also formed picturesque\ninterlacings which unfolded themselves about sixty feet above the\nsurface, more capricious but less highly coloured than those whose\nfreshness was kept up by the vital power of the waters.\n\nWhat charming hours I passed thus at the window of the saloon!  What\nnew specimens of submarine flora and fauna did I admire under the\nbrightness of our electric lantern!\n\nThe 9th of February the Nautilus floated in the broadest part of the\nRed Sea, which is comprised between Souakin, on the west coast, and\nKomfidah, on the east coast, with a diameter of ninety miles.\n\nThat day at noon, after the bearings were taken, Captain Nemo mounted\nthe platform, where I happened to be, and I was determined not to let\nhim go down again without at least pressing him regarding his ulterior\nprojects.  As soon as he saw me he approached and graciously offered me\na cigar.\n\n\"Well, sir, does this Red Sea please you?  Have you sufficiently\nobserved the wonders it covers, its fishes, its zoophytes, its\nparterres of sponges, and its forests of coral?  Did you catch a\nglimpse of the towns on its borders?\"\n\n\"Yes, Captain Nemo,\" I replied; \"and the Nautilus is wonderfully fitted\nfor such a study.  Ah! it is an intelligent boat!\"\n\n\"Yes, sir, intelligent and invulnerable.  It fears neither the terrible\ntempests of the Red Sea, nor its currents, nor its sandbanks.\"\n\n\"Certainly,\" said I, \"this sea is quoted as one of the worst, and in\nthe time of the ancients, if I am not mistaken, its reputation was\ndetestable.\"\n\n\"Detestable, M. Aronnax.  The Greek and Latin historians do not speak\nfavourably of it, and Strabo says it is very dangerous during the\nEtesian winds and in the rainy season.  The Arabian Edrisi portrays it\nunder the name of the Gulf of Colzoum, and relates that vessels\nperished there in great numbers on the sandbanks and that no one would\nrisk sailing in the night.  It is, he pretends, a sea subject to\nfearful hurricanes, strewn with inhospitable islands, and `which offers\nnothing good either on its surface or in its depths.'\"\n\n\"One may see,\" I replied, \"that these historians never sailed on board\nthe Nautilus.\"\n\n\"Just so,\" replied the Captain, smiling; \"and in that respect moderns\nare not more advanced than the ancients.  It required many ages to find\nout the mechanical power of steam.  Who knows if, in another hundred\nyears, we may not see a second Nautilus?  Progress is slow, M. Aronnax.\"\n\n\"It is true,\" I answered; \"your boat is at least a century before its\ntime, perhaps an era.  What a misfortune that the secret of such an\ninvention should die with its inventor!\"\n\nCaptain Nemo did not reply.  After some minutes' silence he continued:\n\n\"You were speaking of the opinions of ancient historians upon the\ndangerous navigation of the Red Sea.\"\n\n\"It is true,\" said I; \"but were not their fears exaggerated?\"\n\n\"Yes and no, M. Aronnax,\" replied Captain Nemo, who seemed to know the\nRed Sea by heart.  \"That which is no longer dangerous for a modern\nvessel, well rigged, strongly built, and master of its own course,\nthanks to obedient steam, offered all sorts of perils to the ships of\nthe ancients.  Picture to yourself those first navigators venturing in\nships made of planks sewn with the cords of the palmtree, saturated\nwith the grease of the seadog, and covered with powdered resin!  They\nhad not even instruments wherewith to take their bearings, and they\nwent by guess amongst currents of which they scarcely knew anything.\nUnder such conditions shipwrecks were, and must have been, numerous.\nBut in our time, steamers running between Suez and the South Seas have\nnothing more to fear from the fury of this gulf, in spite of contrary\ntrade-winds. The captain and passengers do not prepare for their\ndeparture by offering propitiatory sacrifices; and, on their return,\nthey no longer go ornamented with wreaths and gilt fillets to thank the\ngods in the neighbouring temple.\"\n\n\"I agree with you,\" said I; \"and steam seems to have killed all\ngratitude in the hearts of sailors.  But, Captain, since you seem to\nhave especially studied this sea, can you tell me the origin of its\nname?\"\n\n\"There exist several explanations on the subject, M. Aronnax.  Would\nyou like to know the opinion of a chronicler of the fourteenth century?\"\n\n\"Willingly.\"\n\n\"This fanciful writer pretends that its name was given to it after the\npassage of the Israelites, when Pharaoh perished in the waves which\nclosed at the voice of Moses.\"\n\n\"A poet's explanation, Captain Nemo,\" I replied; \"but I cannot content\nmyself with that.  I ask you for your personal opinion.\"\n\n\"Here it is, M. Aronnax.  According to my idea, we must see in this\nappellation of the Red Sea a translation of the Hebrew word `Edom'; and\nif the ancients gave it that name, it was on account of the particular\ncolour of its waters.\"\n\n\"But up to this time I have seen nothing but transparent waves and\nwithout any particular colour.\"\n\n\"Very likely; but as we advance to the bottom of the gulf, you will see\nthis singular appearance.  I remember seeing the Bay of Tor entirely\nred, like a sea of blood.\"\n\n\"And you attribute this colour to the presence of a microscopic\nseaweed?\"\n\n\"Yes.\"\n\n\"So, Captain Nemo, it is not the first time you have overrun the Red\nSea on board the Nautilus?\"\n\n\"No, sir.\"\n\n\"As you spoke a while ago of the passage of the Israelites and of the\ncatastrophe to the Egyptians, I will ask whether you have met with the\ntraces under the water of this great historical fact?\"\n\n\"No, sir; and for a good reason.\"\n\n\"What is it?\"\n\n\"It is that the spot where Moses and his people passed is now so\nblocked up with sand that the camels can barely bathe their legs there.\nYou can well understand that there would not be water enough for my\nNautilus.\"\n\n\"And the spot?\"  I asked.\n\n\"The spot is situated a little above the Isthmus of Suez, in the arm\nwhich formerly made a deep estuary, when the Red Sea extended to the\nSalt Lakes.  Now, whether this passage were miraculous or not, the\nIsraelites, nevertheless, crossed there to reach the Promised Land, and\nPharaoh's army perished precisely on that spot; and I think that\nexcavations made in the middle of the sand would bring to light a large\nnumber of arms and instruments of Egyptian origin.\"\n\n\"That is evident,\" I replied; \"and for the sake of archaeologists let\nus hope that these excavations will be made sooner or later, when new\ntowns are established on the isthmus, after the construction of the\nSuez Canal; a canal, however, very useless to a vessel like the\nNautilus.\"\n\n\"Very likely; but useful to the whole world,\" said Captain Nemo.  \"The\nancients well understood the utility of a communication between the Red\nSea and the Mediterranean for their commercial affairs: but they did\nnot think of digging a canal direct, and took the Nile as an\nintermediate.  Very probably the canal which united the Nile to the Red\nSea was begun by Sesostris, if we may believe tradition.  One thing is\ncertain, that in the year 615 before Jesus Christ, Necos undertook the\nworks of an alimentary canal to the waters of the Nile across the plain\nof Egypt, looking towards Arabia.  It took four days to go up this\ncanal, and it was so wide that two triremes could go abreast.  It was\ncarried on by Darius, the son of Hystaspes, and probably finished by\nPtolemy II.  Strabo saw it navigated:  but its decline from the point\nof departure, near Bubastes, to the Red Sea was so slight that it was\nonly navigable for a few months in the year.  This canal answered all\ncommercial purposes to the age of Antonius, when it was abandoned and\nblocked up with sand.  Restored by order of the Caliph Omar, it was\ndefinitely destroyed in 761 or 762 by Caliph Al-Mansor, who wished to\nprevent the arrival of provisions to Mohammed-ben-Abdallah, who had\nrevolted against him.  During the expedition into Egypt, your General\nBonaparte discovered traces of the works in the Desert of Suez; and,\nsurprised by the tide, he nearly perished before regaining Hadjaroth,\nat the very place where Moses had encamped three thousand years before\nhim.\"\n\n\"Well, Captain, what the ancients dared not undertake, this junction\nbetween the two seas, which will shorten the road from Cadiz to India,\nM. Lesseps has succeeded in doing; and before long he will have changed\nAfrica into an immense island.\"\n\n\"Yes, M. Aronnax; you have the right to be proud of your countryman.\nSuch a man brings more honour to a nation than great captains.  He\nbegan, like so many others, with disgust and rebuffs; but he has\ntriumphed, for he has the genius of will.  And it is sad to think that\na work like that, which ought to have been an international work and\nwhich would have sufficed to make a reign illustrious, should have\nsucceeded by the energy of one man.  All honour to M. Lesseps!\"\n\n\"Yes! honour to the great citizen,\" I replied, surprised by the manner\nin which Captain Nemo had just spoken.\n\n\"Unfortunately,\" he continued, \"I cannot take you through the Suez\nCanal; but you will be able to see the long jetty of Port Said after\nto-morrow, when we shall be in the Mediterranean.\"\n\n\"The Mediterranean!\"  I exclaimed.\n\n\"Yes, sir; does that astonish you?\"\n\n\"What astonishes me is to think that we shall be there the day after\nto-morrow.\"\n\n\"Indeed?\"\n\n\"Yes, Captain, although by this time I ought to have accustomed myself\nto be surprised at nothing since I have been on board your boat.\"\n\n\"But the cause of this surprise?\"\n\n\"Well! it is the fearful speed you will have to put on the Nautilus, if\nthe day after to-morrow she is to be in the Mediterranean, having made\nthe round of Africa, and doubled the Cape of Good Hope!\"\n\n\"Who told you that she would make the round of Africa and double the\nCape of Good Hope, sir?\"\n\n\"Well, unless the Nautilus sails on dry land, and passes above the\nisthmus----\"\n\n\"Or beneath it, M. Aronnax.\"\n\n\"Beneath it?\"\n\n\"Certainly,\" replied Captain Nemo quietly.  \"A long time ago Nature\nmade under this tongue of land what man has this day made on its\nsurface.\"\n\n\"What! such a passage exists?\"\n\n\"Yes; a subterranean passage, which I have named the Arabian Tunnel.\nIt takes us beneath Suez and opens into the Gulf of Pelusium.\"\n\n\"But this isthmus is composed of nothing but quick sands?\"\n\n\"To a certain depth.  But at fifty-five yards only there is a solid\nlayer of rock.\"\n\n\"Did you discover this passage by chance?\"  I asked more and more\nsurprised.\n\n\"Chance and reasoning, sir; and by reasoning even more than by chance.\nNot only does this passage exist, but I have profited by it several\ntimes.  Without that I should not have ventured this day into the\nimpassable Red Sea.  I noticed that in the Red Sea and in the\nMediterranean there existed a certain number of fishes of a kind\nperfectly identical.  Certain of the fact, I asked myself was it\npossible that there was no communication between the two seas?  If\nthere was, the subterranean current must necessarily run from the Red\nSea to the Mediterranean, from the sole cause of difference of level.\nI caught a large number of fishes in the neighbourhood of Suez.  I\npassed a copper ring through their tails, and threw them back into the\nsea.  Some months later, on the coast of Syria, I caught some of my\nfish ornamented with the ring.  Thus the communication between the two\nwas proved.  I then sought for it with my Nautilus; I discovered it,\nventured into it, and before long, sir, you too will have passed\nthrough my Arabian tunnel!\"\n\n\n\nCHAPTER V\n\nTHE ARABIAN TUNNEL\n\nThat same evening, in 21° 30' N. lat., the Nautilus floated on the\nsurface of the sea, approaching the Arabian coast.  I saw Djeddah, the\nmost important counting-house of Egypt, Syria, Turkey, and India.  I\ndistinguished clearly enough its buildings, the vessels anchored at the\nquays, and those whose draught of water obliged them to anchor in the\nroads.  The sun, rather low on the horizon, struck full on the houses\nof the town, bringing out their whiteness.  Outside, some wooden\ncabins, and some made of reeds, showed the quarter inhabited by the\nBedouins.  Soon Djeddah was shut out from view by the shadows of night,\nand the Nautilus found herself under water slightly phosphorescent.\n\nThe next day, the 10th of February, we sighted several ships running to\nwindward.  The Nautilus returned to its submarine navigation; but at\nnoon, when her bearings were taken, the sea being deserted, she rose\nagain to her waterline.\n\nAccompanied by Ned and Conseil, I seated myself on the platform.  The\ncoast on the eastern side looked like a mass faintly printed upon a\ndamp fog.\n\nWe were leaning on the sides of the pinnace, talking of one thing and\nanother, when Ned Land, stretching out his hand towards a spot on the\nsea, said:\n\n\"Do you see anything there, sir?\"\n\n\"No, Ned,\" I replied; \"but I have not your eyes, you know.\"\n\n\"Look well,\" said Ned, \"there, on the starboard beam, about the height\nof the lantern!  Do you not see a mass which seems to move?\"\n\n\"Certainly,\" said I, after close attention; \"I see something like a\nlong black body on the top of the water.\"\n\nAnd certainly before long the black object was not more than a mile\nfrom us.  It looked like a great sandbank deposited in the open sea.\nIt was a gigantic dugong!\n\nNed Land looked eagerly.  His eyes shone with covetousness at the sight\nof the animal.  His hand seemed ready to harpoon it.  One would have\nthought he was awaiting the moment to throw himself into the sea and\nattack it in its element.\n\nAt this instant Captain Nemo appeared on the platform.  He saw the\ndugong, understood the Canadian's attitude, and, addressing him, said:\n\n\"If you held a harpoon just now, Master Land, would it not burn your\nhand?\"\n\n\"Just so, sir.\"\n\n\"And you would not be sorry to go back, for one day, to your trade of a\nfisherman and to add this cetacean to the list of those you have\nalready killed?\"\n\n\"I should not, sir.\"\n\n\"Well, you can try.\"\n\n\"Thank you, sir,\" said Ned Land, his eyes flaming.\n\n\"Only,\" continued the Captain, \"I advise you for your own sake not to\nmiss the creature.\"\n\n\"Is the dugong dangerous to attack?\"  I asked, in spite of the\nCanadian's shrug of the shoulders.\n\n\"Yes,\" replied the Captain; \"sometimes the animal turns upon its\nassailants and overturns their boat.  But for Master Land this danger\nis not to be feared.  His eye is prompt, his arm sure.\"\n\nAt this moment seven men of the crew, mute and immovable as ever,\nmounted the platform.  One carried a harpoon and a line similar to\nthose employed in catching whales.  The pinnace was lifted from the\nbridge, pulled from its socket, and let down into the sea.  Six oarsmen\ntook their seats, and the coxswain went to the tiller.  Ned, Conseil,\nand I went to the back of the boat.\n\n\"You are not coming, Captain?\"  I asked.\n\n\"No, sir; but I wish you good sport.\"\n\nThe boat put off, and, lifted by the six rowers, drew rapidly towards\nthe dugong, which floated about two miles from the Nautilus.\n\nArrived some cables-length from the cetacean, the speed slackened, and\nthe oars dipped noiselessly into the quiet waters.  Ned Land, harpoon\nin hand, stood in the fore part of the boat.  The harpoon used for\nstriking the whale is generally attached to a very long cord which runs\nout rapidly as the wounded creature draws it after him.  But here the\ncord was not more than ten fathoms long, and the extremity was attached\nto a small barrel which, by floating, was to show the course the dugong\ntook under the water.\n\nI stood and carefully watched the Canadian's adversary.  This dugong,\nwhich also bears the name of the halicore, closely resembles the\nmanatee; its oblong body terminated in a lengthened tail, and its\nlateral fins in perfect fingers.  Its difference from the manatee\nconsisted in its upper jaw, which was armed with two long and pointed\nteeth which formed on each side diverging tusks.\n\nThis dugong which Ned Land was preparing to attack was of colossal\ndimensions; it was more than seven yards long.  It did not move, and\nseemed to be sleeping on the waves, which circumstance made it easier\nto capture.\n\nThe boat approached within six yards of the animal.  The oars rested on\nthe rowlocks.  I half rose.  Ned Land, his body thrown a little back,\nbrandished the harpoon in his experienced hand.\n\nSuddenly a hissing noise was heard, and the dugong disappeared.  The\nharpoon, although thrown with great force; had apparently only struck\nthe water.\n\n\"Curse it!\" exclaimed the Canadian furiously; \"I have missed it!\"\n\n\"No,\" said I; \"the creature is wounded--look at the blood; but your\nweapon has not stuck in his body.\"\n\n\"My harpoon! my harpoon!\" cried Ned Land.\n\nThe sailors rowed on, and the coxswain made for the floating barrel.\nThe harpoon regained, we followed in pursuit of the animal.\n\nThe latter came now and then to the surface to breathe.  Its wound had\nnot weakened it, for it shot onwards with great rapidity.\n\nThe boat, rowed by strong arms, flew on its track.  Several times it\napproached within some few yards, and the Canadian was ready to strike,\nbut the dugong made off with a sudden plunge, and it was impossible to\nreach it.\n\nImagine the passion which excited impatient Ned Land!  He hurled at the\nunfortunate creature the most energetic expletives in the English\ntongue.  For my part, I was only vexed to see the dugong escape all our\nattacks.\n\nWe pursued it without relaxation for an hour, and I began to think it\nwould prove difficult to capture, when the animal, possessed with the\nperverse idea of vengeance of which he had cause to repent, turned upon\nthe pinnace and assailed us in its turn.\n\nThis manoeuvre did not escape the Canadian.\n\n\"Look out!\" he cried.\n\nThe coxswain said some words in his outlandish tongue, doubtless\nwarning the men to keep on their guard.\n\nThe dugong came within twenty feet of the boat, stopped, sniffed the\nair briskly with its large nostrils (not pierced at the extremity, but\nin the upper part of its muzzle). Then, taking a spring, he threw\nhimself upon us.\n\nThe pinnace could not avoid the shock, and half upset, shipped at least\ntwo tons of water, which had to be emptied; but, thanks to the\ncoxswain, we caught it sideways, not full front, so we were not quite\noverturned.  While Ned Land, clinging to the bows, belaboured the\ngigantic animal with blows from his harpoon, the creature's teeth were\nburied in the gunwale, and it lifted the whole thing out of the water,\nas a lion does a roebuck.  We were upset over one another, and I know\nnot how the adventure would have ended, if the Canadian, still enraged\nwith the beast, had not struck it to the heart.\n\nI heard its teeth grind on the iron plate, and the dugong disappeared,\ncarrying the harpoon with him.  But the barrel soon returned to the\nsurface, and shortly after the body of the animal, turned on its back.\nThe boat came up with it, took it in tow, and made straight for the\nNautilus.\n\nIt required tackle of enormous strength to hoist the dugong on to the\nplatform.  It weighed 10,000 lb.\n\nThe next day, 11th February, the larder of the Nautilus was enriched by\nsome more delicate game.  A flight of sea-swallows rested on the\nNautilus.  It was a species of the Sterna nilotica, peculiar to Egypt;\nits beak is black, head grey and pointed, the eye surrounded by white\nspots, the back, wings, and tail of a greyish colour, the belly and\nthroat white, and claws red.  They also took some dozen of Nile ducks,\na wild bird of high flavour, its throat and upper part of the head\nwhite with black spots.\n\nAbout five o'clock in the evening we sighted to the north the Cape of\nRas-Mohammed. This cape forms the extremity of Arabia Petraea,\ncomprised between the Gulf of Suez and the Gulf of Acabah.\n\nThe Nautilus penetrated into the Straits of Jubal, which leads to the\nGulf of Suez.  I distinctly saw a high mountain, towering between the\ntwo gulfs of Ras-Mohammed. It was Mount Horeb, that Sinai at the top of\nwhich Moses saw God face to face.\n\nAt six o'clock the Nautilus, sometimes floating, sometimes immersed,\npassed some distance from Tor, situated at the end of the bay, the\nwaters of which seemed tinted with red, an observation already made by\nCaptain Nemo.  Then night fell in the midst of a heavy silence,\nsometimes broken by the cries of the pelican and other night-birds, and\nthe noise of the waves breaking upon the shore, chafing against the\nrocks, or the panting of some far-off steamer beating the waters of the\nGulf with its noisy paddles.\n\nFrom eight to nine o'clock the Nautilus remained some fathoms under the\nwater.  According to my calculation we must have been very near Suez.\nThrough the panel of the saloon I saw the bottom of the rocks\nbrilliantly lit up by our electric lamp.  We seemed to be leaving the\nStraits behind us more and more.\n\nAt a quarter-past nine, the vessel having returned to the surface, I\nmounted the platform.  Most impatient to pass through Captain Nemo's\ntunnel, I could not stay in one place, so came to breathe the fresh\nnight air.\n\nSoon in the shadow I saw a pale light, half discoloured by the fog,\nshining about a mile from us.\n\n\"A floating lighthouse!\" said someone near me.\n\nI turned, and saw the Captain.\n\n\"It is the floating light of Suez,\" he continued.  \"It will not be long\nbefore we gain the entrance of the tunnel.\"\n\n\"The entrance cannot be easy?\"\n\n\"No, sir; for that reason I am accustomed to go into the steersman's\ncage and myself direct our course.  And now, if you will go down, M.\nAronnax, the Nautilus is going under the waves, and will not return to\nthe surface until we have passed through the Arabian Tunnel.\"\n\nCaptain Nemo led me towards the central staircase; half way down he\nopened a door, traversed the upper deck, and landed in the pilot's\ncage, which it may be remembered rose at the extremity of the platform.\nIt was a cabin measuring six feet square, very much like that occupied\nby the pilot on the steamboats of the Mississippi or Hudson.  In the\nmidst worked a wheel, placed vertically, and caught to the tiller-rope,\nwhich ran to the back of the Nautilus.  Four light-ports with\nlenticular glasses, let in a groove in the partition of the cabin,\nallowed the man at the wheel to see in all directions.\n\nThis cabin was dark; but soon my eyes accustomed themselves to the\nobscurity, and I perceived the pilot, a strong man, with his hands\nresting on the spokes of the wheel.  Outside, the sea appeared vividly\nlit up by the lantern, which shed its rays from the back of the cabin\nto the other extremity of the platform.\n\n\"Now,\" said Captain Nemo, \"let us try to make our passage.\"\n\nElectric wires connected the pilot's cage with the machinery room, and\nfrom there the Captain could communicate simultaneously to his Nautilus\nthe direction and the speed.  He pressed a metal knob, and at once the\nspeed of the screw diminished.\n\nI looked in silence at the high straight wall we were running by at\nthis moment, the immovable base of a massive sandy coast.  We followed\nit thus for an hour only some few yards off.\n\nCaptain Nemo did not take his eye from the knob, suspended by its two\nconcentric circles in the cabin.  At a simple gesture, the pilot\nmodified the course of the Nautilus every instant.\n\nI had placed myself at the port-scuttle, and saw some magnificent\nsubstructures of coral, zoophytes, seaweed, and fucus, agitating their\nenormous claws, which stretched out from the fissures of the rock.\n\nAt a quarter-past ten, the Captain himself took the helm.  A large\ngallery, black and deep, opened before us.  The Nautilus went boldly\ninto it.  A strange roaring was heard round its sides.  It was the\nwaters of the Red Sea, which the incline of the tunnel precipitated\nviolently towards the Mediterranean.  The Nautilus went with the\ntorrent, rapid as an arrow, in spite of the efforts of the machinery,\nwhich, in order to offer more effective resistance, beat the waves with\nreversed screw.\n\nOn the walls of the narrow passage I could see nothing but brilliant\nrays, straight lines, furrows of fire, traced by the great speed, under\nthe brilliant electric light.  My heart beat fast.\n\nAt thirty-five minutes past ten, Captain Nemo quitted the helm, and,\nturning to me, said:\n\n\"The Mediterranean!\"\n\nIn less than twenty minutes, the Nautilus, carried along by the\ntorrent, had passed through the Isthmus of Suez.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VI\n\nTHE GRECIAN ARCHIPELAGO\n\nThe next day, the 12th of February, at the dawn of day, the Nautilus\nrose to the surface.  I hastened on to the platform.  Three miles to\nthe south the dim outline of Pelusium was to be seen.  A torrent had\ncarried us from one sea to another.  About seven o'clock Ned and\nConseil joined me.\n\n\"Well, Sir Naturalist,\" said the Canadian, in a slightly jovial tone,\n\"and the Mediterranean?\"\n\n\"We are floating on its surface, friend Ned.\"\n\n\"What!\" said Conseil, \"this very night.\"\n\n\"Yes, this very night; in a few minutes we have passed this impassable\nisthmus.\"\n\n\"I do not believe it,\" replied the Canadian.\n\n\"Then you are wrong, Master Land,\" I continued; \"this low coast which\nrounds off to the south is the Egyptian coast.  And you who have such\ngood eyes, Ned, you can see the jetty of Port Said stretching into the\nsea.\"\n\nThe Canadian looked attentively.\n\n\"Certainly you are right, sir, and your Captain is a first-rate man.\nWe are in the Mediterranean.  Good!  Now, if you please, let us talk of\nour own little affair, but so that no one hears us.\"\n\nI saw what the Canadian wanted, and, in any case, I thought it better\nto let him talk, as he wished it; so we all three went and sat down\nnear the lantern, where we were less exposed to the spray of the blades.\n\n\"Now, Ned, we listen; what have you to tell us?\"\n\n\"What I have to tell you is very simple.  We are in Europe; and before\nCaptain Nemo's caprices drag us once more to the bottom of the Polar\nSeas, or lead us into Oceania, I ask to leave the Nautilus.\"\n\nI wished in no way to shackle the liberty of my companions, but I\ncertainly felt no desire to leave Captain Nemo.\n\nThanks to him, and thanks to his apparatus, I was each day nearer the\ncompletion of my submarine studies; and I was rewriting my book of\nsubmarine depths in its very element.  Should I ever again have such an\nopportunity of observing the wonders of the ocean?  No, certainly not!\nAnd I could not bring myself to the idea of abandoning the Nautilus\nbefore the cycle of investigation was accomplished.\n\n\"Friend Ned, answer me frankly, are you tired of being on board?  Are\nyou sorry that destiny has thrown us into Captain Nemo's hands?\"\n\nThe Canadian remained some moments without answering.  Then, crossing\nhis arms, he said:\n\n\"Frankly, I do not regret this journey under the seas.  I shall be glad\nto have made it; but, now that it is made, let us have done with it.\nThat is my idea.\"\n\n\"It will come to an end, Ned.\"\n\n\"Where and when?\"\n\n\"Where I do not know--when I cannot say; or, rather, I suppose it will\nend when these seas have nothing more to teach us.\"\n\n\"Then what do you hope for?\" demanded the Canadian.\n\n\"That circumstances may occur as well six months hence as now by which\nwe may and ought to profit.\"\n\n\"Oh!\" said Ned Land, \"and where shall we be in six months, if you\nplease, Sir Naturalist?\"\n\n\"Perhaps in China; you know the Nautilus is a rapid traveller.  It goes\nthrough water as swallows through the air, or as an express on the\nland.  It does not fear frequented seas; who can say that it may not\nbeat the coasts of France, England, or America, on which flight may be\nattempted as advantageously as here.\"\n\n\"M. Aronnax,\" replied the Canadian, \"your arguments are rotten at the\nfoundation.  You speak in the future, `We shall be there!  we shall be\nhere!'  I speak in the present, `We are here, and we must profit by\nit.'\"\n\nNed Land's logic pressed me hard, and I felt myself beaten on that\nground.  I knew not what argument would now tell in my favour.\n\n\"Sir,\" continued Ned, \"let us suppose an impossibility: if Captain Nemo\nshould this day offer you your liberty; would you accept it?\"\n\n\"I do not know,\" I answered.\n\n\"And if,\" he added, \"the offer made you this day was never to be\nrenewed, would you accept it?\"\n\n\"Friend Ned, this is my answer.  Your reasoning is against me.  We must\nnot rely on Captain Nemo's good-will. Common prudence forbids him to\nset us at liberty.  On the other side, prudence bids us profit by the\nfirst opportunity to leave the Nautilus.\"\n\n\"Well, M. Aronnax, that is wisely said.\"\n\n\"Only one observation--just one.  The occasion must be serious, and our\nfirst attempt must succeed; if it fails, we shall never find another,\nand Captain Nemo will never forgive us.\"\n\n\"All that is true,\" replied the Canadian.  \"But your observation\napplies equally to all attempts at flight, whether in two years' time,\nor in two days'. But the question is still this: If a favourable\nopportunity presents itself, it must be seized.\"\n\n\"Agreed!  And now, Ned, will you tell me what you mean by a favourable\nopportunity?\"\n\n\"It will be that which, on a dark night, will bring the Nautilus a\nshort distance from some European coast.\"\n\n\"And you will try and save yourself by swimming?\"\n\n\"Yes, if we were near enough to the bank, and if the vessel was\nfloating at the time.  Not if the bank was far away, and the boat was\nunder the water.\"\n\n\"And in that case?\"\n\n\"In that case, I should seek to make myself master of the pinnace.  I\nknow how it is worked.  We must get inside, and the bolts once drawn,\nwe shall come to the surface of the water, without even the pilot, who\nis in the bows, perceiving our flight.\"\n\n\"Well, Ned, watch for the opportunity; but do not forget that a hitch\nwill ruin us.\"\n\n\"I will not forget, sir.\"\n\n\"And now, Ned, would you like to know what I think of your project?\"\n\n\"Certainly, M. Aronnax.\"\n\n\"Well, I think--I do not say I hope--I think that this favourable\nopportunity will never present itself.\"\n\n\"Why not?\"\n\n\"Because Captain Nemo cannot hide from himself that we have not given\nup all hope of regaining our liberty, and he will be on his guard,\nabove all, in the seas and in the sight of European coasts.\"\n\n\"We shall see,\" replied Ned Land, shaking his head determinedly.\n\n\"And now, Ned Land,\" I added, \"let us stop here.  Not another word on\nthe subject.  The day that you are ready, come and let us know, and we\nwill follow you.  I rely entirely upon you.\"\n\nThus ended a conversation which, at no very distant time, led to such\ngrave results.  I must say here that facts seemed to confirm my\nforesight, to the Canadian's great despair.  Did Captain Nemo distrust\nus in these frequented seas? or did he only wish to hide himself from\nthe numerous vessels, of all nations, which ploughed the Mediterranean?\nI could not tell; but we were oftener between waters and far from the\ncoast.  Or, if the Nautilus did emerge, nothing was to be seen but the\npilot's cage; and sometimes it went to great depths, for, between the\nGrecian Archipelago and Asia Minor we could not touch the bottom by\nmore than a thousand fathoms.\n\nThus I only knew we were near the Island of Carpathos, one of the\nSporades, by Captain Nemo reciting these lines from Virgil:\n\n    \"Est Carpathio Neptuni gurgite vates,\n     Caeruleus Proteus,\"\n\nas he pointed to a spot on the planisphere.\n\nIt was indeed the ancient abode of Proteus, the old shepherd of\nNeptune's flocks, now the Island of Scarpanto, situated between Rhodes\nand Crete.  I saw nothing but the granite base through the glass panels\nof the saloon.\n\nThe next day, the 14th of February, I resolved to employ some hours in\nstudying the fishes of the Archipelago; but for some reason or other\nthe panels remained hermetically sealed.  Upon taking the course of the\nNautilus, I found that we were going towards Candia, the ancient Isle\nof Crete.  At the time I embarked on the Abraham Lincoln, the whole of\nthis island had risen in insurrection against the despotism of the\nTurks.  But how the insurgents had fared since that time I was\nabsolutely ignorant, and it was not Captain Nemo, deprived of all land\ncommunications, who could tell me.\n\nI made no allusion to this event when that night I found myself alone\nwith him in the saloon.  Besides, he seemed to be taciturn and\npreoccupied.  Then, contrary to his custom, he ordered both panels to\nbe opened, and, going from one to the other, observed the mass of\nwaters attentively.  To what end I could not guess; so, on my side, I\nemployed my time in studying the fish passing before my eyes.\n\nIn the midst of the waters a man appeared, a diver, carrying at his\nbelt a leathern purse.  It was not a body abandoned to the waves; it\nwas a living man, swimming with a strong hand, disappearing\noccasionally to take breath at the surface.\n\nI turned towards Captain Nemo, and in an agitated voice exclaimed:\n\n\"A man shipwrecked!  He must be saved at any price!\"\n\nThe Captain did not answer me, but came and leaned against the panel.\n\nThe man had approached, and, with his face flattened against the glass,\nwas looking at us.\n\nTo my great amazement, Captain Nemo signed to him.  The diver answered\nwith his hand, mounted immediately to the surface of the water, and did\nnot appear again.\n\n\"Do not be uncomfortable,\" said Captain Nemo.  \"It is Nicholas of Cape\nMatapan, surnamed Pesca.  He is well known in all the Cyclades.  A bold\ndiver! water is his element, and he lives more in it than on land,\ngoing continually from one island to another, even as far as Crete.\"\n\n\"You know him, Captain?\"\n\n\"Why not, M. Aronnax?\"\n\nSaying which, Captain Nemo went towards a piece of furniture standing\nnear the left panel of the saloon.  Near this piece of furniture, I saw\na chest bound with iron, on the cover of which was a copper plate,\nbearing the cypher of the Nautilus with its device.\n\nAt that moment, the Captain, without noticing my presence, opened the\npiece of furniture, a sort of strong box, which held a great many\ningots.\n\nThey were ingots of gold.  From whence came this precious metal, which\nrepresented an enormous sum?  Where did the Captain gather this gold\nfrom? and what was he going to do with it?\n\nI did not say one word.  I looked.  Captain Nemo took the ingots one by\none, and arranged them methodically in the chest, which he filled\nentirely.  I estimated the contents at more than 4,000 lb. weight of\ngold, that is to say, nearly L200,000.\n\nThe chest was securely fastened, and the Captain wrote an address on\nthe lid, in characters which must have belonged to Modern Greece.\n\nThis done, Captain Nemo pressed a knob, the wire of which communicated\nwith the quarters of the crew.  Four men appeared, and, not without\nsome trouble, pushed the chest out of the saloon.  Then I heard them\nhoisting it up the iron staircase by means of pulleys.\n\nAt that moment, Captain Nemo turned to me.\n\n\"And you were saying, sir?\" said he.\n\n\"I was saying nothing, Captain.\"\n\n\"Then, sir, if you will allow me, I will wish you good night.\"\n\nWhereupon he turned and left the saloon.\n\nI returned to my room much troubled, as one may believe.  I vainly\ntried to sleep--I sought the connecting link between the apparition of\nthe diver and the chest filled with gold.  Soon, I felt by certain\nmovements of pitching and tossing that the Nautilus was leaving the\ndepths and returning to the surface.\n\nThen I heard steps upon the platform; and I knew they were unfastening\nthe pinnace and launching it upon the waves.  For one instant it struck\nthe side of the Nautilus, then all noise ceased.\n\nTwo hours after, the same noise, the same going and coming was renewed;\nthe boat was hoisted on board, replaced in its socket, and the Nautilus\nagain plunged under the waves.\n\nSo these millions had been transported to their address.  To what point\nof the continent?  Who was Captain Nemo's correspondent?\n\nThe next day I related to Conseil and the Canadian the events of the\nnight, which had excited my curiosity to the highest degree.  My\ncompanions were not less surprised than myself.\n\n\"But where does he take his millions to?\" asked Ned Land.\n\nTo that there was no possible answer.  I returned to the saloon after\nhaving breakfast and set to work.  Till five o'clock in the evening I\nemployed myself in arranging my notes.  At that moment--(ought I to\nattribute it to some peculiar idiosyncrasy)--I felt so great a heat\nthat I was obliged to take off my coat.  It was strange, for we were\nunder low latitudes; and even then the Nautilus, submerged as it was,\nought to experience no change of temperature.  I looked at the\nmanometer; it showed a depth of sixty feet, to which atmospheric heat\ncould never attain.\n\nI continued my work, but the temperature rose to such a pitch as to be\nintolerable.\n\n\"Could there be fire on board?\"  I asked myself.\n\nI was leaving the saloon, when Captain Nemo entered; he approached the\nthermometer, consulted it, and, turning to me, said:\n\n\"Forty-two degrees.\"\n\n\"I have noticed it, Captain,\" I replied; \"and if it gets much hotter we\ncannot bear it.\"\n\n\"Oh, sir, it will not get better if we do not wish it.\"\n\n\"You can reduce it as you please, then?\"\n\n\"No; but I can go farther from the stove which produces it.\"\n\n\"It is outward, then!\"\n\n\"Certainly; we are floating in a current of boiling water.\"\n\n\"Is it possible!\"  I exclaimed.\n\n\"Look.\"\n\nThe panels opened, and I saw the sea entirely white all round.  A\nsulphurous smoke was curling amid the waves, which boiled like water in\na copper.  I placed my hand on one of the panes of glass, but the heat\nwas so great that I quickly took it off again.\n\n\"Where are we?\"  I asked.\n\n\"Near the Island of Santorin, sir,\" replied the Captain.  \"I wished to\ngive you a sight of the curious spectacle of a submarine eruption.\"\n\n\"I thought,\" said I, \"that the formation of these new islands was\nended.\"\n\n\"Nothing is ever ended in the volcanic parts of the sea,\" replied\nCaptain Nemo; \"and the globe is always being worked by subterranean\nfires.  Already, in the nineteenth year of our era, according to\nCassiodorus and Pliny, a new island, Theia (the divine), appeared in\nthe very place where these islets have recently been formed.  Then they\nsank under the waves, to rise again in the year 69, when they again\nsubsided.  Since that time to our days the Plutonian work has been\nsuspended.  But on the 3rd of February, 1866, a new island, which they\nnamed George Island, emerged from the midst of the sulphurous vapour\nnear Nea Kamenni, and settled again the 6th of the same month.  Seven\ndays after, the 13th of February, the Island of Aphroessa appeared,\nleaving between Nea Kamenni and itself a canal ten yards broad.  I was\nin these seas when the phenomenon occurred, and I was able therefore to\nobserve all the different phases.  The Island of Aphroessa, of round\nform, measured 300 feet in diameter, and 30 feet in height.  It was\ncomposed of black and vitreous lava, mixed with fragments of felspar.\nAnd lastly, on the 10th of March, a smaller island, called Reka, showed\nitself near Nea Kamenni, and since then these three have joined\ntogether, forming but one and the same island.\"\n\n\"And the canal in which we are at this moment?\"  I asked.\n\n\"Here it is,\" replied Captain Nemo, showing me a map of the\nArchipelago.  \"You see, I have marked the new islands.\"\n\nI returned to the glass.  The Nautilus was no longer moving, the heat\nwas becoming unbearable.  The sea, which till now had been white, was\nred, owing to the presence of salts of iron.  In spite of the ship's\nbeing hermetically sealed, an insupportable smell of sulphur filled the\nsaloon, and the brilliancy of the electricity was entirely extinguished\nby bright scarlet flames.  I was in a bath, I was choking, I was\nbroiled.\n\n\"We can remain no longer in this boiling water,\" said I to the Captain.\n\n\"It would not be prudent,\" replied the impassive Captain Nemo.\n\nAn order was given; the Nautilus tacked about and left the furnace it\ncould not brave with impunity.  A quarter of an hour after we were\nbreathing fresh air on the surface.  The thought then struck me that,\nif Ned Land had chosen this part of the sea for our flight, we should\nnever have come alive out of this sea of fire.\n\nThe next day, the 16th of February, we left the basin which, between\nRhodes and Alexandria, is reckoned about 1,500 fathoms in depth, and\nthe Nautilus, passing some distance from Cerigo, quitted the Grecian\nArchipelago after having doubled Cape Matapan.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VII\n\nTHE MEDITERRANEAN IN FORTY-EIGHT HOURS\n\nThe Mediterranean, the blue sea par excellence, \"the great sea\" of the\nHebrews, \"the sea\" of the Greeks, the \"mare nostrum\" of the Romans,\nbordered by orange-trees, aloes, cacti, and sea-pines; embalmed with\nthe perfume of the myrtle, surrounded by rude mountains, saturated with\npure and transparent air, but incessantly worked by underground fires;\na perfect battlefield in which Neptune and Pluto still dispute the\nempire of the world!\n\nIt is upon these banks, and on these waters, says Michelet, that man is\nrenewed in one of the most powerful climates of the globe.  But,\nbeautiful as it was, I could only take a rapid glance at the basin\nwhose superficial area is two million of square yards.  Even Captain\nNemo's knowledge was lost to me, for this puzzling person did not\nappear once during our passage at full speed.  I estimated the course\nwhich the Nautilus took under the waves of the sea at about six hundred\nleagues, and it was accomplished in forty-eight hours.  Starting on the\nmorning of the 16th of February from the shores of Greece, we had\ncrossed the Straits of Gibraltar by sunrise on the 18th.\n\nIt was plain to me that this Mediterranean, enclosed in the midst of\nthose countries which he wished to avoid, was distasteful to Captain\nNemo.  Those waves and those breezes brought back too many\nremembrances, if not too many regrets.  Here he had no longer that\nindependence and that liberty of gait which he had when in the open\nseas, and his Nautilus felt itself cramped between the close shores of\nAfrica and Europe.\n\nOur speed was now twenty-five miles an hour.  It may be well understood\nthat Ned Land, to his great disgust, was obliged to renounce his\nintended flight.  He could not launch the pinnace, going at the rate of\ntwelve or thirteen yards every second.  To quit the Nautilus under such\nconditions would be as bad as jumping from a train going at full\nspeed--an imprudent thing, to say the least of it.  Besides, our vessel\nonly mounted to the surface of the waves at night to renew its stock of\nair; it was steered entirely by the compass and the log.\n\nI saw no more of the interior of this Mediterranean than a traveller by\nexpress train perceives of the landscape which flies before his eyes;\nthat is to say, the distant horizon, and not the nearer objects which\npass like a flash of lightning.\n\nWe were then passing between Sicily and the coast of Tunis.  In the\nnarrow space between Cape Bon and the Straits of Messina the bottom of\nthe sea rose almost suddenly.  There was a perfect bank, on which there\nwas not more than nine fathoms of water, whilst on either side the\ndepth was ninety fathoms.\n\nThe Nautilus had to manoeuvre very carefully so as not to strike\nagainst this submarine barrier.\n\nI showed Conseil, on the map of the Mediterranean, the spot occupied by\nthis reef.\n\n\"But if you please, sir,\" observed Conseil, \"it is like a real isthmus\njoining Europe to Africa.\"\n\n\"Yes, my boy, it forms a perfect bar to the Straits of Lybia, and the\nsoundings of Smith have proved that in former times the continents\nbetween Cape Boco and Cape Furina were joined.\"\n\n\"I can well believe it,\" said Conseil.\n\n\"I will add,\" I continued, \"that a similar barrier exists between\nGibraltar and Ceuta, which in geological times formed the entire\nMediterranean.\"\n\n\"What if some volcanic burst should one day raise these two barriers\nabove the waves?\"\n\n\"It is not probable, Conseil.\"\n\n\"Well, but allow me to finish, please, sir; if this phenomenon should\ntake place, it will be troublesome for M. Lesseps, who has taken so\nmuch pains to pierce the isthmus.\"\n\n\"I agree with you; but I repeat, Conseil, this phenomenon will never\nhappen.  The violence of subterranean force is ever diminishing.\nVolcanoes, so plentiful in the first days of the world, are being\nextinguished by degrees; the internal heat is weakened, the temperature\nof the lower strata of the globe is lowered by a perceptible quantity\nevery century to the detriment of our globe, for its heat is its life.\"\n\n\"But the sun?\"\n\n\"The sun is not sufficient, Conseil.  Can it give heat to a dead body?\"\n\n\"Not that I know of.\"\n\n\"Well, my friend, this earth will one day be that cold corpse; it will\nbecome uninhabitable and uninhabited like the moon, which has long\nsince lost all its vital heat.\"\n\n\"In how many centuries?\"\n\n\"In some hundreds of thousands of years, my boy.\"\n\n\"Then,\" said Conseil, \"we shall have time to finish our journey--that\nis, if Ned Land does not interfere with it.\"\n\nAnd Conseil, reassured, returned to the study of the bank, which the\nNautilus was skirting at a moderate speed.\n\nDuring the night of the 16th and 17th February we had entered the\nsecond Mediterranean basin, the greatest depth of which was 1,450\nfathoms.  The Nautilus, by the action of its crew, slid down the\ninclined planes and buried itself in the lowest depths of the sea.\n\nOn the 18th of February, about three o'clock in the morning, we were at\nthe entrance of the Straits of Gibraltar.  There once existed two\ncurrents: an upper one, long since recognised, which conveys the waters\nof the ocean into the basin of the Mediterranean; and a lower\ncounter-current, which reasoning has now shown to exist.  Indeed, the\nvolume of water in the Mediterranean, incessantly added to by the waves\nof the Atlantic and by rivers falling into it, would each year raise\nthe level of this sea, for its evaporation is not sufficient to restore\nthe equilibrium.  As it is not so, we must necessarily admit the\nexistence of an under-current, which empties into the basin of the\nAtlantic through the Straits of Gibraltar the surplus waters of the\nMediterranean.  A fact indeed; and it was this counter-current by which\nthe Nautilus profited.  It advanced rapidly by the narrow pass.  For\none instant I caught a glimpse of the beautiful ruins of the temple of\nHercules, buried in the ground, according to Pliny, and with the low\nisland which supports it; and a few minutes later we were floating on\nthe Atlantic.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VIII\n\nVIGO BAY\n\nThe Atlantic! a vast sheet of water whose superficial area covers\ntwenty-five millions of square miles, the length of which is nine\nthousand miles, with a mean breadth of two thousand seven hundred--an\nocean whose parallel winding shores embrace an immense circumference,\nwatered by the largest rivers of the world, the St. Lawrence, the\nMississippi, the Amazon, the Plata, the Orinoco, the Niger, the\nSenegal, the Elbe, the Loire, and the Rhine, which carry water from the\nmost civilised, as well as from the most savage, countries!\nMagnificent field of water, incessantly ploughed by vessels of every\nnation, sheltered by the flags of every nation, and which terminates in\nthose two terrible points so dreaded by mariners, Cape Horn and the\nCape of Tempests.\n\nThe Nautilus was piercing the water with its sharp spur, after having\naccomplished nearly ten thousand leagues in three months and a half, a\ndistance greater than the great circle of the earth.  Where were we\ngoing now, and what was reserved for the future?  The Nautilus, leaving\nthe Straits of Gibraltar, had gone far out.  It returned to the surface\nof the waves, and our daily walks on the platform were restored to us.\n\nI mounted at once, accompanied by Ned Land and Conseil.  At a distance\nof about twelve miles, Cape St. Vincent was dimly to be seen, forming\nthe south-western point of the Spanish peninsula.  A strong southerly\ngale was blowing.  The sea was swollen and billowy; it made the\nNautilus rock violently.  It was almost impossible to keep one's foot\non the platform, which the heavy rolls of the sea beat over every\ninstant.  So we descended after inhaling some mouthfuls of fresh air.\n\nI returned to my room, Conseil to his cabin; but the Canadian, with a\npreoccupied air, followed me.  Our rapid passage across the\nMediterranean had not allowed him to put his project into execution,\nand he could not help showing his disappointment.  When the door of my\nroom was shut, he sat down and looked at me silently.\n\n\"Friend Ned,\" said I, \"I understand you; but you cannot reproach\nyourself.  To have attempted to leave the Nautilus under the\ncircumstances would have been folly.\"\n\nNed Land did not answer; his compressed lips and frowning brow showed\nwith him the violent possession this fixed idea had taken of his mind.\n\n\"Let us see,\" I continued; \"we need not despair yet.  We are going up\nthe coast of Portugal again; France and England are not far off, where\nwe can easily find refuge.  Now if the Nautilus, on leaving the Straits\nof Gibraltar, had gone to the south, if it had carried us towards\nregions where there were no continents, I should share your uneasiness.\nBut we know now that Captain Nemo does not fly from civilised seas, and\nin some days I think you can act with security.\"\n\nNed Land still looked at me fixedly; at length his fixed lips parted,\nand he said, \"It is for to-night.\"\n\nI drew myself up suddenly.  I was, I admit, little prepared for this\ncommunication.  I wanted to answer the Canadian, but words would not\ncome.\n\n\"We agreed to wait for an opportunity,\" continued Ned Land, \"and the\nopportunity has arrived.  This night we shall be but a few miles from\nthe Spanish coast.  It is cloudy.  The wind blows freely.  I have your\nword, M. Aronnax, and I rely upon you.\"\n\nAs I was silent, the Canadian approached me.\n\n\"To-night, at nine o'clock,\" said he.  \"I have warned Conseil.  At that\nmoment Captain Nemo will be shut up in his room, probably in bed.\nNeither the engineers nor the ship's crew can see us.  Conseil and I\nwill gain the central staircase, and you, M. Aronnax, will remain in\nthe library, two steps from us, waiting my signal.  The oars, the mast,\nand the sail are in the canoe.  I have even succeeded in getting some\nprovisions.  I have procured an English wrench, to unfasten the bolts\nwhich attach it to the shell of the Nautilus.  So all is ready, till\nto-night.\"\n\n\"The sea is bad.\"\n\n\"That I allow,\" replied the Canadian; \"but we must risk that.  Liberty\nis worth paying for; besides, the boat is strong, and a few miles with\na fair wind to carry us is no great thing.  Who knows but by to-morrow\nwe may be a hundred leagues away?  Let circumstances only favour us,\nand by ten or eleven o'clock we shall have landed on some spot of terra\nfirma, alive or dead.  But adieu now till to-night.\"\n\nWith these words the Canadian withdrew, leaving me almost dumb.  I had\nimagined that, the chance gone, I should have time to reflect and\ndiscuss the matter.  My obstinate companion had given me no time; and,\nafter all, what could I have said to him?  Ned Land was perfectly\nright.  There was almost the opportunity to profit by.  Could I retract\nmy word, and take upon myself the responsibility of compromising the\nfuture of my companions?  To-morrow Captain Nemo might take us far from\nall land.\n\nAt that moment a rather loud hissing noise told me that the reservoirs\nwere filling, and that the Nautilus was sinking under the waves of the\nAtlantic.\n\nA sad day I passed, between the desire of regaining my liberty of\naction and of abandoning the wonderful Nautilus, and leaving my\nsubmarine studies incomplete.\n\nWhat dreadful hours I passed thus!  Sometimes seeing myself and\ncompanions safely landed, sometimes wishing, in spite of my reason,\nthat some unforeseen circumstance, would prevent the realisation of Ned\nLand's project.\n\nTwice I went to the saloon.  I wished to consult the compass.  I wished\nto see if the direction the Nautilus was taking was bringing us nearer\nor taking us farther from the coast.  But no; the Nautilus kept in\nPortuguese waters.\n\nI must therefore take my part and prepare for flight.  My luggage was\nnot heavy; my notes, nothing more.\n\nAs to Captain Nemo, I asked myself what he would think of our escape;\nwhat trouble, what wrong it might cause him and what he might do in\ncase of its discovery or failure.  Certainly I had no cause to complain\nof him; on the contrary, never was hospitality freer than his.  In\nleaving him I could not be taxed with ingratitude.  No oath bound us to\nhim.  It was on the strength of circumstances he relied, and not upon\nour word, to fix us for ever.\n\nI had not seen the Captain since our visit to the Island of Santorin.\nWould chance bring me to his presence before our departure?  I wished\nit, and I feared it at the same time.  I listened if I could hear him\nwalking the room contiguous to mine.  No sound reached my ear.  I felt\nan unbearable uneasiness.  This day of waiting seemed eternal.  Hours\nstruck too slowly to keep pace with my impatience.\n\nMy dinner was served in my room as usual.  I ate but little; I was too\npreoccupied.  I left the table at seven o'clock. A hundred and twenty\nminutes (I counted them) still separated me from the moment in which I\nwas to join Ned Land.  My agitation redoubled.  My pulse beat\nviolently.  I could not remain quiet.  I went and came, hoping to calm\nmy troubled spirit by constant movement.  The idea of failure in our\nbold enterprise was the least painful of my anxieties; but the thought\nof seeing our project discovered before leaving the Nautilus, of being\nbrought before Captain Nemo, irritated, or (what was worse) saddened,\nat my desertion, made my heart beat.\n\nI wanted to see the saloon for the last time.  I descended the stairs\nand arrived in the museum, where I had passed so many useful and\nagreeable hours.  I looked at all its riches, all its treasures, like a\nman on the eve of an eternal exile, who was leaving never to return.\n\nThese wonders of Nature, these masterpieces of art, amongst which for\nso many days my life had been concentrated, I was going to abandon them\nfor ever!  I should like to have taken a last look through the windows\nof the saloon into the waters of the Atlantic:  but the panels were\nhermetically closed, and a cloak of steel separated me from that ocean\nwhich I had not yet explored.\n\nIn passing through the saloon, I came near the door let into the angle\nwhich opened into the Captain's room.  To my great surprise, this door\nwas ajar.  I drew back involuntarily.  If Captain Nemo should be in his\nroom, he could see me.  But, hearing no sound, I drew nearer.  The room\nwas deserted.  I pushed open the door and took some steps forward.\nStill the same monklike severity of aspect.\n\nSuddenly the clock struck eight.  The first beat of the hammer on the\nbell awoke me from my dreams.  I trembled as if an invisible eye had\nplunged into my most secret thoughts, and I hurried from the room.\n\nThere my eye fell upon the compass.  Our course was still north.  The\nlog indicated moderate speed, the manometer a depth of about sixty feet.\n\nI returned to my room, clothed myself warmly--sea boots, an otterskin\ncap, a great coat of byssus, lined with sealskin; I was ready, I was\nwaiting.  The vibration of the screw alone broke the deep silence which\nreigned on board.  I listened attentively.  Would no loud voice\nsuddenly inform me that Ned Land had been surprised in his projected\nflight.  A mortal dread hung over me, and I vainly tried to regain my\naccustomed coolness.\n\nAt a few minutes to nine, I put my ear to the Captain's door.  No\nnoise.  I left my room and returned to the saloon, which was half in\nobscurity, but deserted.\n\nI opened the door communicating with the library.  The same\ninsufficient light, the same solitude.  I placed myself near the door\nleading to the central staircase, and there waited for Ned Land's\nsignal.\n\nAt that moment the trembling of the screw sensibly diminished, then it\nstopped entirely.  The silence was now only disturbed by the beatings\nof my own heart.  Suddenly a slight shock was felt; and I knew that the\nNautilus had stopped at the bottom of the ocean.  My uneasiness\nincreased.  The Canadian's signal did not come.  I felt inclined to\njoin Ned Land and beg of him to put off his attempt.  I felt that we\nwere not sailing under our usual conditions.\n\nAt this moment the door of the large saloon opened, and Captain Nemo\nappeared.  He saw me, and without further preamble began in an amiable\ntone of voice:\n\n\"Ah, sir!  I have been looking for you.  Do you know the history of\nSpain?\"\n\nNow, one might know the history of one's own country by heart; but in\nthe condition I was at the time, with troubled mind and head quite\nlost, I could not have said a word of it.\n\n\"Well,\" continued Captain Nemo, \"you heard my question!  Do you know\nthe history of Spain?\"\n\n\"Very slightly,\" I answered.\n\n\"Well, here are learned men having to learn,\" said the Captain.  \"Come,\nsit down, and I will tell you a curious episode in this history.  Sir,\nlisten well,\" said he; \"this history will interest you on one side, for\nit will answer a question which doubtless you have not been able to\nsolve.\"\n\n\"I listen, Captain,\" said I, not knowing what my interlocutor was\ndriving at, and asking myself if this incident was bearing on our\nprojected flight.\n\n\"Sir, if you have no objection, we will go back to 1702.  You cannot be\nignorant that your king, Louis XIV, thinking that the gesture of a\npotentate was sufficient to bring the Pyrenees under his yoke, had\nimposed the Duke of Anjou, his grandson, on the Spaniards.  This prince\nreigned more or less badly under the name of Philip V, and had a strong\nparty against him abroad.  Indeed, the preceding year, the royal houses\nof Holland, Austria, and England had concluded a treaty of alliance at\nthe Hague, with the intention of plucking the crown of Spain from the\nhead of Philip V, and placing it on that of an archduke to whom they\nprematurely gave the title of Charles III.\n\n\"Spain must resist this coalition; but she was almost entirely\nunprovided with either soldiers or sailors.  However, money would not\nfail them, provided that their galleons, laden with gold and silver\nfrom America, once entered their ports.  And about the end of 1702 they\nexpected a rich convoy which France was escorting with a fleet of\ntwenty-three vessels, commanded by Admiral Chateau-Renaud, for the\nships of the coalition were already beating the Atlantic.  This convoy\nwas to go to Cadiz, but the Admiral, hearing that an English fleet was\ncruising in those waters, resolved to make for a French port.\n\n\"The Spanish commanders of the convoy objected to this decision.  They\nwanted to be taken to a Spanish port, and, if not to Cadiz, into Vigo\nBay, situated on the northwest coast of Spain, and which was not\nblocked.\n\n\"Admiral Chateau-Renaud had the rashness to obey this injunction, and\nthe galleons entered Vigo Bay.\n\n\"Unfortunately, it formed an open road which could not be defended in\nany way.  They must therefore hasten to unload the galleons before the\narrival of the combined fleet; and time would not have failed them had\nnot a miserable question of rivalry suddenly arisen.\n\n\"You are following the chain of events?\" asked Captain Nemo.\n\n\"Perfectly,\" said I, not knowing the end proposed by this historical\nlesson.\n\n\"I will continue.  This is what passed.  The merchants of Cadiz had a\nprivilege by which they had the right of receiving all merchandise\ncoming from the West Indies.  Now, to disembark these ingots at the\nport of Vigo was depriving them of their rights.  They complained at\nMadrid, and obtained the consent of the weak-minded Philip that the\nconvoy, without discharging its cargo, should remain sequestered in the\nroads of Vigo until the enemy had disappeared.\n\n\"But whilst coming to this decision, on the 22nd of October, 1702, the\nEnglish vessels arrived in Vigo Bay, when Admiral Chateau-Renaud, in\nspite of inferior forces, fought bravely.  But, seeing that the\ntreasure must fall into the enemy's hands, he burnt and scuttled every\ngalleon, which went to the bottom with their immense riches.\"\n\nCaptain Nemo stopped.  I admit I could not see yet why this history\nshould interest me.\n\n\"Well?\"  I asked.\n\n\"Well, M. Aronnax,\" replied Captain Nemo, \"we are in that Vigo Bay; and\nit rests with yourself whether you will penetrate its mysteries.\"\n\nThe Captain rose, telling me to follow him.  I had had time to recover.\nI obeyed.  The saloon was dark, but through the transparent glass the\nwaves were sparkling.  I looked.\n\nFor half a mile around the Nautilus, the waters seemed bathed in\nelectric light.  The sandy bottom was clean and bright.  Some of the\nship's crew in their diving-dresses were clearing away half-rotten\nbarrels and empty cases from the midst of the blackened wrecks.  From\nthese cases and from these barrels escaped ingots of gold and silver,\ncascades of piastres and jewels.  The sand was heaped up with them.\nLaden with their precious booty, the men returned to the Nautilus,\ndisposed of their burden, and went back to this inexhaustible fishery\nof gold and silver.\n\nI understood now.  This was the scene of the battle of the 22nd of\nOctober, 1702.  Here on this very spot the galleons laden for the\nSpanish Government had sunk.  Here Captain Nemo came, according to his\nwants, to pack up those millions with which he burdened the Nautilus.\nIt was for him and him alone America had given up her precious metals.\nHe was heir direct, without anyone to share, in those treasures torn\nfrom the Incas and from the conquered of Ferdinand Cortez.\n\n\"Did you know, sir,\" he asked, smiling, \"that the sea contained such\nriches?\"\n\n\"I knew,\" I answered, \"that they value money held in suspension in\nthese waters at two millions.\"\n\n\"Doubtless; but to extract this money the expense would be greater than\nthe profit.  Here, on the contrary, I have but to pick up what man has\nlost--and not only in Vigo Bay, but in a thousand other ports where\nshipwrecks have happened, and which are marked on my submarine map.\nCan you understand now the source of the millions I am worth?\"\n\n\"I understand, Captain.  But allow me to tell you that in exploring\nVigo Bay you have only been beforehand with a rival society.\"\n\n\"And which?\"\n\n\"A society which has received from the Spanish Government the privilege\nof seeking those buried galleons.  The shareholders are led on by the\nallurement of an enormous bounty, for they value these rich shipwrecks\nat five hundred millions.\"\n\n\"Five hundred millions they were,\" answered Captain Nemo, \"but they are\nso no longer.\"\n\n\"Just so,\" said I; \"and a warning to those shareholders would be an act\nof charity.  But who knows if it would be well received?  What gamblers\nusually regret above all is less the loss of their money than of their\nfoolish hopes.  After all, I pity them less than the thousands of\nunfortunates to whom so much riches well-distributed would have been\nprofitable, whilst for them they will be for ever barren.\"\n\nI had no sooner expressed this regret than I felt that it must have\nwounded Captain Nemo.\n\n\"Barren!\" he exclaimed, with animation.  \"Do you think then, sir, that\nthese riches are lost because I gather them?  Is it for myself alone,\naccording to your idea, that I take the trouble to collect these\ntreasures?  Who told you that I did not make a good use of it?  Do you\nthink I am ignorant that there are suffering beings and oppressed races\non this earth, miserable creatures to console, victims to avenge?  Do\nyou not understand?\"\n\nCaptain Nemo stopped at these last words, regretting perhaps that he\nhad spoken so much.  But I had guessed that, whatever the motive which\nhad forced him to seek independence under the sea, it had left him\nstill a man, that his heart still beat for the sufferings of humanity,\nand that his immense charity was for oppressed races as well as\nindividuals.  And I then understood for whom those millions were\ndestined which were forwarded by Captain Nemo when the Nautilus was\ncruising in the waters of Crete.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER IX\n\nA VANISHED CONTINENT\n\nThe next morning, the 19th of February, I saw the Canadian enter my\nroom.  I expected this visit.  He looked very disappointed.\n\n\"Well, sir?\" said he.\n\n\"Well, Ned, fortune was against us yesterday.\"\n\n\"Yes; that Captain must needs stop exactly at the hour we intended\nleaving his vessel.\"\n\n\"Yes, Ned, he had business at his bankers.\"\n\n\"His bankers!\"\n\n\"Or rather his banking-house; by that I mean the ocean, where his\nriches are safer than in the chests of the State.\"\n\nI then related to the Canadian the incidents of the preceding night,\nhoping to bring him back to the idea of not abandoning the Captain; but\nmy recital had no other result than an energetically expressed regret\nfrom Ned that he had not been able to take a walk on the battlefield of\nVigo on his own account.\n\n\"However,\" said he, \"all is not ended.  It is only a blow of the\nharpoon lost.  Another time we must succeed; and to-night, if\nnecessary----\"\n\n\"In what direction is the Nautilus going?\"  I asked.\n\n\"I do not know,\" replied Ned.\n\n\"Well, at noon we shall see the point.\"\n\nThe Canadian returned to Conseil.  As soon as I was dressed, I went\ninto the saloon.  The compass was not reassuring.  The course of the\nNautilus was S.S.W. We were turning our backs on Europe.\n\nI waited with some impatience till the ship's place was pricked on the\nchart.  At about half-past eleven the reservoirs were emptied, and our\nvessel rose to the surface of the ocean.  I rushed towards the\nplatform.  Ned Land had preceded me.  No more land in sight.  Nothing\nbut an immense sea.  Some sails on the horizon, doubtless those going\nto San Roque in search of favourable winds for doubling the Cape of\nGood Hope.  The weather was cloudy.  A gale of wind was preparing.  Ned\nraved, and tried to pierce the cloudy horizon.  He still hoped that\nbehind all that fog stretched the land he so longed for.\n\nAt noon the sun showed itself for an instant.  The second profited by\nthis brightness to take its height.  Then, the sea becoming more\nbillowy, we descended, and the panel closed.\n\nAn hour after, upon consulting the chart, I saw the position of the\nNautilus was marked at 16° 17' long., and 33° 22' lat., at 150\nleagues from the nearest coast.  There was no means of flight, and I\nleave you to imagine the rage of the Canadian when I informed him of\nour situation.\n\nFor myself, I was not particularly sorry.  I felt lightened of the load\nwhich had oppressed me, and was able to return with some degree of\ncalmness to my accustomed work.\n\nThat night, about eleven o'clock, I received a most unexpected visit\nfrom Captain Nemo.  He asked me very graciously if I felt fatigued from\nmy watch of the preceding night.  I answered in the negative.\n\n\"Then, M. Aronnax, I propose a curious excursion.\"\n\n\"Propose, Captain?\"\n\n\"You have hitherto only visited the submarine depths by daylight, under\nthe brightness of the sun.  Would it suit you to see them in the\ndarkness of the night?\"\n\n\"Most willingly.\"\n\n\"I warn you, the way will be tiring.  We shall have far to walk, and\nmust climb a mountain.  The roads are not well kept.\"\n\n\"What you say, Captain, only heightens my curiosity; I am ready to\nfollow you.\"\n\n\"Come then, sir, we will put on our diving-dresses.\"\n\nArrived at the robing-room, I saw that neither of my companions nor any\nof the ship's crew were to follow us on this excursion.  Captain Nemo\nhad not even proposed my taking with me either Ned or Conseil.\n\nIn a few moments we had put on our diving-dresses; they placed on our\nbacks the reservoirs, abundantly filled with air, but no electric lamps\nwere prepared.  I called the Captain's attention to the fact.\n\n\"They will be useless,\" he replied.\n\nI thought I had not heard aright, but I could not repeat my\nobservation, for the Captain's head had already disappeared in its\nmetal case.  I finished harnessing myself.  I felt them put an\niron-pointed stick into my hand, and some minutes later, after going\nthrough the usual form, we set foot on the bottom of the Atlantic at a\ndepth of 150 fathoms.  Midnight was near.  The waters were profoundly\ndark, but Captain Nemo pointed out in the distance a reddish spot, a\nsort of large light shining brilliantly about two miles from the\nNautilus.  What this fire might be, what could feed it, why and how it\nlit up the liquid mass, I could not say.  In any case, it did light our\nway, vaguely, it is true, but I soon accustomed myself to the peculiar\ndarkness, and I understood, under such circumstances, the uselessness\nof the Ruhmkorff apparatus.\n\nAs we advanced, I heard a kind of pattering above my head.  The noise\nredoubling, sometimes producing a continual shower, I soon understood\nthe cause.  It was rain falling violently, and crisping the surface of\nthe waves.  Instinctively the thought flashed across my mind that I\nshould be wet through!  By the water! in the midst of the water!  I\ncould not help laughing at the odd idea.  But, indeed, in the thick\ndiving-dress, the liquid element is no longer felt, and one only seems\nto be in an atmosphere somewhat denser than the terrestrial atmosphere.\nNothing more.\n\nAfter half an hour's walk the soil became stony.  Medusae, microscopic\ncrustacea, and pennatules lit it slightly with their phosphorescent\ngleam.  I caught a glimpse of pieces of stone covered with millions of\nzoophytes and masses of sea weed.  My feet often slipped upon this\nsticky carpet of sea weed, and without my iron-tipped stick I should\nhave fallen more than once.  In turning round, I could still see the\nwhitish lantern of the Nautilus beginning to pale in the distance.\n\nBut the rosy light which guided us increased and lit up the horizon.\nThe presence of this fire under water puzzled me in the highest degree.\nWas I going towards a natural phenomenon as yet unknown to the _savants_\nof the earth?  Or even (for this thought crossed my brain) had the hand\nof man aught to do with this conflagration?  Had he fanned this flame?\nWas I to meet in these depths companions and friends of Captain Nemo\nwhom he was going to visit, and who, like him, led this strange\nexistence?  Should I find down there a whole colony of exiles who,\nweary of the miseries of this earth, had sought and found independence\nin the deep ocean?  All these foolish and unreasonable ideas pursued\nme.  And in this condition of mind, over-excited by the succession of\nwonders continually passing before my eyes, I should not have been\nsurprised to meet at the bottom of the sea one of those submarine towns\nof which Captain Nemo dreamed.\n\nOur road grew lighter and lighter.  The white glimmer came in rays from\nthe summit of a mountain about 800 feet high.  But what I saw was\nsimply a reflection, developed by the clearness of the waters.  The\nsource of this inexplicable light was a fire on the opposite side of\nthe mountain.\n\nIn the midst of this stony maze furrowing the bottom of the Atlantic,\nCaptain Nemo advanced without hesitation.  He knew this dreary road.\nDoubtless he had often travelled over it, and could not lose himself.\nI followed him with unshaken confidence.  He seemed to me like a genie\nof the sea; and, as he walked before me, I could not help admiring his\nstature, which was outlined in black on the luminous horizon.\n\nIt was one in the morning when we arrived at the first slopes of the\nmountain; but to gain access to them we must venture through the\ndifficult paths of a vast copse.\n\nYes; a copse of dead trees, without leaves, without sap, trees\npetrified by the action of the water and here and there overtopped by\ngigantic pines.  It was like a coal-pit still standing, holding by the\nroots to the broken soil, and whose branches, like fine black paper\ncuttings, showed distinctly on the watery ceiling.  Picture to yourself\na forest in the Hartz hanging on to the sides of the mountain, but a\nforest swallowed up.  The paths were encumbered with seaweed and fucus,\nbetween which grovelled a whole world of crustacea.  I went along,\nclimbing the rocks, striding over extended trunks, breaking the sea\nbind-weed which hung from one tree to the other; and frightening the\nfishes, which flew from branch to branch.  Pressing onward, I felt no\nfatigue.  I followed my guide, who was never tired.  What a spectacle!\nHow can I express it? how paint the aspect of those woods and rocks in\nthis medium--their under parts dark and wild, the upper coloured with\nred tints, by that light which the reflecting powers of the waters\ndoubled?  We climbed rocks which fell directly after with gigantic\nbounds and the low growling of an avalanche.  To right and left ran\nlong, dark galleries, where sight was lost.  Here opened vast glades\nwhich the hand of man seemed to have worked; and I sometimes asked\nmyself if some inhabitant of these submarine regions would not suddenly\nappear to me.\n\nBut Captain Nemo was still mounting.  I could not stay behind.  I\nfollowed boldly.  My stick gave me good help.  A false step would have\nbeen dangerous on the narrow passes sloping down to the sides of the\ngulfs; but I walked with firm step, without feeling any giddiness.  Now\nI jumped a crevice, the depth of which would have made me hesitate had\nit been among the glaciers on the land; now I ventured on the unsteady\ntrunk of a tree thrown across from one abyss to the other, without\nlooking under my feet, having only eyes to admire the wild sites of\nthis region.\n\nThere, monumental rocks, leaning on their regularly-cut bases, seemed\nto defy all laws of equilibrium.  From between their stony knees trees\nsprang, like a jet under heavy pressure, and upheld others which upheld\nthem.  Natural towers, large scarps, cut perpendicularly, like a\n\"curtain,\" inclined at an angle which the laws of gravitation could\nnever have tolerated in terrestrial regions.\n\nTwo hours after quitting the Nautilus we had crossed the line of trees,\nand a hundred feet above our heads rose the top of the mountain, which\ncast a shadow on the brilliant irradiation of the opposite slope.  Some\npetrified shrubs ran fantastically here and there.  Fishes got up under\nour feet like birds in the long grass.  The massive rocks were rent\nwith impenetrable fractures, deep grottos, and unfathomable holes, at\nthe bottom of which formidable creatures might be heard moving.  My\nblood curdled when I saw enormous antennae blocking my road, or some\nfrightful claw closing with a noise in the shadow of some cavity.\nMillions of luminous spots shone brightly in the midst of the darkness.\nThey were the eyes of giant crustacea crouched in their holes; giant\nlobsters setting themselves up like halberdiers, and moving their claws\nwith the clicking sound of pincers; titanic crabs, pointed like a gun\non its carriage; and frightful-looking poulps, interweaving their\ntentacles like a living nest of serpents.\n\nWe had now arrived on the first platform, where other surprises awaited\nme.  Before us lay some picturesque ruins, which betrayed the hand of\nman and not that of the Creator.  There were vast heaps of stone,\namongst which might be traced the vague and shadowy forms of castles\nand temples, clothed with a world of blossoming zoophytes, and over\nwhich, instead of ivy, sea-weed and fucus threw a thick vegetable\nmantle.  But what was this portion of the globe which had been\nswallowed by cataclysms?  Who had placed those rocks and stones like\ncromlechs of prehistoric times?  Where was I?  Whither had Captain\nNemo's fancy hurried me?\n\nI would fain have asked him; not being able to, I stopped him--I seized\nhis arm.  But, shaking his head, and pointing to the highest point of\nthe mountain, he seemed to say:\n\n\"Come, come along; come higher!\"\n\nI followed, and in a few minutes I had climbed to the top, which for a\ncircle of ten yards commanded the whole mass of rock.\n\nI looked down the side we had just climbed.  The mountain did not rise\nmore than seven or eight hundred feet above the level of the plain; but\non the opposite side it commanded from twice that height the depths of\nthis part of the Atlantic.  My eyes ranged far over a large space lit\nby a violent fulguration.  In fact, the mountain was a volcano.\n\nAt fifty feet above the peak, in the midst of a rain of stones and\nscoriae, a large crater was vomiting forth torrents of lava which fell\nin a cascade of fire into the bosom of the liquid mass.  Thus situated,\nthis volcano lit the lower plain like an immense torch, even to the\nextreme limits of the horizon.  I said that the submarine crater threw\nup lava, but no flames.  Flames require the oxygen of the air to feed\nupon and cannot be developed under water; but streams of lava, having\nin themselves the principles of their incandescence, can attain a white\nheat, fight vigorously against the liquid element, and turn it to\nvapour by contact.\n\nRapid currents bearing all these gases in diffusion and torrents of\nlava slid to the bottom of the mountain like an eruption of Vesuvius on\nanother Terra del Greco.\n\nThere indeed under my eyes, ruined, destroyed, lay a town--its roofs\nopen to the sky, its temples fallen, its arches dislocated, its columns\nlying on the ground, from which one would still recognise the massive\ncharacter of Tuscan architecture.  Further on, some remains of a\ngigantic aqueduct; here the high base of an Acropolis, with the\nfloating outline of a Parthenon; there traces of a quay, as if an\nancient port had formerly abutted on the borders of the ocean, and\ndisappeared with its merchant vessels and its war-galleys. Farther on\nagain, long lines of sunken walls and broad, deserted streets--a\nperfect Pompeii escaped beneath the waters.  Such was the sight that\nCaptain Nemo brought before my eyes!\n\nWhere was I?  Where was I?  I must know at any cost.  I tried to speak,\nbut Captain Nemo stopped me by a gesture, and, picking up a piece of\nchalk-stone, advanced to a rock of black basalt, and traced the one\nword:\n\n\nATLANTIS\n\n\nWhat a light shot through my mind!  Atlantis! the Atlantis of Plato,\nthat continent denied by Origen and Humbolt, who placed its\ndisappearance amongst the legendary tales.  I had it there now before\nmy eyes, bearing upon it the unexceptionable testimony of its\ncatastrophe.  The region thus engulfed was beyond Europe, Asia, and\nLybia, beyond the columns of Hercules, where those powerful people, the\nAtlantides, lived, against whom the first wars of ancient Greeks were\nwaged.\n\nThus, led by the strangest destiny, I was treading under foot the\nmountains of this continent, touching with my hand those ruins a\nthousand generations old and contemporary with the geological epochs.\nI was walking on the very spot where the contemporaries of the first\nman had walked.\n\nWhilst I was trying to fix in my mind every detail of this grand\nlandscape, Captain Nemo remained motionless, as if petrified in mute\necstasy, leaning on a mossy stone.  Was he dreaming of those\ngenerations long since disappeared?  Was he asking them the secret of\nhuman destiny?  Was it here this strange man came to steep himself in\nhistorical recollections, and live again this ancient life--he who\nwanted no modern one?  What would I not have given to know his\nthoughts, to share them, to understand them!  We remained for an hour\nat this place, contemplating the vast plains under the brightness of\nthe lava, which was some times wonderfully intense.  Rapid tremblings\nran along the mountain caused by internal bubblings, deep noise,\ndistinctly transmitted through the liquid medium were echoed with\nmajestic grandeur.  At this moment the moon appeared through the mass\nof waters and threw her pale rays on the buried continent.  It was but\na gleam, but what an indescribable effect!  The Captain rose, cast one\nlast look on the immense plain, and then bade me follow him.\n\nWe descended the mountain rapidly, and, the mineral forest once passed,\nI saw the lantern of the Nautilus shining like a star.  The Captain\nwalked straight to it, and we got on board as the first rays of light\nwhitened the surface of the ocean.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER X\n\nTHE SUBMARINE COAL-MINES\n\nThe next day, the 20th of February, I awoke very late:  the fatigues of\nthe previous night had prolonged my sleep until eleven o'clock. I\ndressed quickly, and hastened to find the course the Nautilus was\ntaking.  The instruments showed it to be still toward the south, with a\nspeed of twenty miles an hour and a depth of fifty fathoms.\n\nThe species of fishes here did not differ much from those already\nnoticed.  There were rays of giant size, five yards long, and endowed\nwith great muscular strength, which enabled them to shoot above the\nwaves; sharks of many kinds; amongst others, one fifteen feet long,\nwith triangular sharp teeth, and whose transparency rendered it almost\ninvisible in the water.\n\nAmongst bony fish Conseil noticed some about three yards long, armed at\nthe upper jaw with a piercing sword; other bright-coloured creatures,\nknown in the time of Aristotle by the name of the sea-dragon, which are\ndangerous to capture on account of the spikes on their back.\n\nAbout four o'clock, the soil, generally composed of a thick mud mixed\nwith petrified wood, changed by degrees, and it became more stony, and\nseemed strewn with conglomerate and pieces of basalt, with a sprinkling\nof lava.  I thought that a mountainous region was succeeding the long\nplains; and accordingly, after a few evolutions of the Nautilus, I saw\nthe southerly horizon blocked by a high wall which seemed to close all\nexit.  Its summit evidently passed the level of the ocean.  It must be\na continent, or at least an island--one of the Canaries, or of the Cape\nVerde Islands.  The bearings not being yet taken, perhaps designedly, I\nwas ignorant of our exact position.  In any case, such a wall seemed to\nme to mark the limits of that Atlantis, of which we had in reality\npassed over only the smallest part.\n\nMuch longer should I have remained at the window admiring the beauties\nof sea and sky, but the panels closed.  At this moment the Nautilus\narrived at the side of this high, perpendicular wall.  What it would\ndo, I could not guess.  I returned to my room; it no longer moved.  I\nlaid myself down with the full intention of waking after a few hours'\nsleep; but it was eight o'clock the next day when I entered the saloon.\nI looked at the manometer.  It told me that the Nautilus was floating\non the surface of the ocean.  Besides, I heard steps on the platform.\nI went to the panel.  It was open; but, instead of broad daylight, as I\nexpected, I was surrounded by profound darkness.  Where were we?  Was I\nmistaken?  Was it still night?  No; not a star was shining and night\nhas not that utter darkness.\n\nI knew not what to think, when a voice near me said:\n\n\"Is that you, Professor?\"\n\n\"Ah!  Captain,\" I answered, \"where are we?\"\n\n\"Underground, sir.\"\n\n\"Underground!\"  I exclaimed.  \"And the Nautilus floating still?\"\n\n\"It always floats.\"\n\n\"But I do not understand.\"\n\n\"Wait a few minutes, our lantern will be lit, and, if you like light\nplaces, you will be satisfied.\"\n\nI stood on the platform and waited.  The darkness was so complete that\nI could not even see Captain Nemo; but, looking to the zenith, exactly\nabove my head, I seemed to catch an undecided gleam, a kind of twilight\nfilling a circular hole.  At this instant the lantern was lit, and its\nvividness dispelled the faint light.  I closed my dazzled eyes for an\ninstant, and then looked again.  The Nautilus was stationary, floating\nnear a mountain which formed a sort of quay.  The lake, then,\nsupporting it was a lake imprisoned by a circle of walls, measuring two\nmiles in diameter and six in circumference.  Its level (the manometer\nshowed) could only be the same as the outside level, for there must\nnecessarily be a communication between the lake and the sea.  The high\npartitions, leaning forward on their base, grew into a vaulted roof\nbearing the shape of an immense funnel turned upside down, the height\nbeing about five or six hundred yards.  At the summit was a circular\norifice, by which I had caught the slight gleam of light, evidently\ndaylight.\n\n\"Where are we?\"  I asked.\n\n\"In the very heart of an extinct volcano, the interior of which has\nbeen invaded by the sea, after some great convulsion of the earth.\nWhilst you were sleeping, Professor, the Nautilus penetrated to this\nlagoon by a natural canal, which opens about ten yards beneath the\nsurface of the ocean.  This is its harbour of refuge, a sure,\ncommodious, and mysterious one, sheltered from all gales.  Show me, if\nyou can, on the coasts of any of your continents or islands, a road\nwhich can give such perfect refuge from all storms.\"\n\n\"Certainly,\" I replied, \"you are in safety here, Captain Nemo.  Who\ncould reach you in the heart of a volcano?  But did I not see an\nopening at its summit?\"\n\n\"Yes; its crater, formerly filled with lava, vapour, and flames, and\nwhich now gives entrance to the life-giving air we breathe.\"\n\n\"But what is this volcanic mountain?\"\n\n\"It belongs to one of the numerous islands with which this sea is\nstrewn--to vessels a simple sandbank--to us an immense cavern.  Chance\nled me to discover it, and chance served me well.\"\n\n\"But of what use is this refuge, Captain?  The Nautilus wants no port.\"\n\n\"No, sir; but it wants electricity to make it move, and the wherewithal\nto make the electricity--sodium to feed the elements, coal from which\nto get the sodium, and a coal-mine to supply the coal.  And exactly on\nthis spot the sea covers entire forests embedded during the geological\nperiods, now mineralised and transformed into coal; for me they are an\ninexhaustible mine.\"\n\n\"Your men follow the trade of miners here, then, Captain?\"\n\n\"Exactly so.  These mines extend under the waves like the mines of\nNewcastle.  Here, in their diving-dresses, pick axe and shovel in hand,\nmy men extract the coal, which I do not even ask from the mines of the\nearth.  When I burn this combustible for the manufacture of sodium, the\nsmoke, escaping from the crater of the mountain, gives it the\nappearance of a still-active volcano.\"\n\n\"And we shall see your companions at work?\"\n\n\"No; not this time at least; for I am in a hurry to continue our\nsubmarine tour of the earth.  So I shall content myself with drawing\nfrom the reserve of sodium I already possess.  The time for loading is\none day only, and we continue our voyage.  So, if you wish to go over\nthe cavern and make the round of the lagoon, you must take advantage of\nto-day, M. Aronnax.\"\n\nI thanked the Captain and went to look for my companions, who had not\nyet left their cabin.  I invited them to follow me without saying where\nwe were.  They mounted the platform.  Conseil, who was astonished at\nnothing, seemed to look upon it as quite natural that he should wake\nunder a mountain, after having fallen asleep under the waves.  But Ned\nLand thought of nothing but finding whether the cavern had any exit.\nAfter breakfast, about ten o'clock, we went down on to the mountain.\n\n\"Here we are, once more on land,\" said Conseil.\n\n\"I do not call this land,\" said the Canadian.  \"And besides, we are not\non it, but beneath it.\"\n\nBetween the walls of the mountains and the waters of the lake lay a\nsandy shore which, at its greatest breadth, measured five hundred feet.\nOn this soil one might easily make the tour of the lake.  But the base\nof the high partitions was stony ground, with volcanic locks and\nenormous pumice-stones lying in picturesque heaps.  All these detached\nmasses, covered with enamel, polished by the action of the\nsubterraneous fires, shone resplendent by the light of our electric\nlantern.  The mica dust from the shore, rising under our feet, flew\nlike a cloud of sparks.  The bottom now rose sensibly, and we soon\narrived at long circuitous slopes, or inclined planes, which took us\nhigher by degrees; but we were obliged to walk carefully among these\nconglomerates, bound by no cement, the feet slipping on the glassy\ncrystal, felspar, and quartz.\n\nThe volcanic nature of this enormous excavation was confirmed on all\nsides, and I pointed it out to my companions.\n\n\"Picture to yourselves,\" said I, \"what this crater must have been when\nfilled with boiling lava, and when the level of the incandescent liquid\nrose to the orifice of the mountain, as though melted on the top of a\nhot plate.\"\n\n\"I can picture it perfectly,\" said Conseil.  \"But, sir, will you tell\nme why the Great Architect has suspended operations, and how it is that\nthe furnace is replaced by the quiet waters of the lake?\"\n\n\"Most probably, Conseil, because some convulsion beneath the ocean\nproduced that very opening which has served as a passage for the\nNautilus.  Then the waters of the Atlantic rushed into the interior of\nthe mountain.  There must have been a terrible struggle between the two\nelements, a struggle which ended in the victory of Neptune.  But many\nages have run out since then, and the submerged volcano is now a\npeaceable grotto.\"\n\n\"Very well,\" replied Ned Land; \"I accept the explanation, sir; but, in\nour own interests, I regret that the opening of which you speak was not\nmade above the level of the sea.\"\n\n\"But, friend Ned,\" said Conseil, \"if the passage had not been under the\nsea, the Nautilus could not have gone through it.\"\n\nWe continued ascending.  The steps became more and more perpendicular\nand narrow.  Deep excavations, which we were obliged to cross, cut them\nhere and there; sloping masses had to be turned.  We slid upon our\nknees and crawled along.  But Conseil's dexterity and the Canadian's\nstrength surmounted all obstacles.  At a height of about 31 feet the\nnature of the ground changed without becoming more practicable.  To the\nconglomerate and trachyte succeeded black basalt, the first dispread in\nlayers full of bubbles, the latter forming regular prisms, placed like\na colonnade supporting the spring of the immense vault, an admirable\nspecimen of natural architecture.  Between the blocks of basalt wound\nlong streams of lava, long since grown cold, encrusted with bituminous\nrays; and in some places there were spread large carpets of sulphur.  A\nmore powerful light shone through the upper crater, shedding a vague\nglimmer over these volcanic depressions for ever buried in the bosom of\nthis extinguished mountain.  But our upward march was soon stopped at a\nheight of about two hundred and fifty feet by impassable obstacles.\nThere was a complete vaulted arch overhanging us, and our ascent was\nchanged to a circular walk.  At the last change vegetable life began to\nstruggle with the mineral.  Some shrubs, and even some trees, grew from\nthe fractures of the walls.  I recognised some euphorbias, with the\ncaustic sugar coming from them; heliotropes, quite incapable of\njustifying their name, sadly drooped their clusters of flowers, both\ntheir colour and perfume half gone.  Here and there some chrysanthemums\ngrew timidly at the foot of an aloe with long, sickly-looking leaves.\nBut between the streams of lava, I saw some little violets still\nslightly perfumed, and I admit that I smelt them with delight.  Perfume\nis the soul of the flower, and sea-flowers have no soul.\n\nWe had arrived at the foot of some sturdy dragon-trees, which had\npushed aside the rocks with their strong roots, when Ned Land exclaimed:\n\n\"Ah! sir, a hive! a hive!\"\n\n\"A hive!\"  I replied, with a gesture of incredulity.\n\n\"Yes, a hive,\" repeated the Canadian, \"and bees humming round it.\"\n\nI approached, and was bound to believe my own eyes.  There at a hole\nbored in one of the dragon-trees were some thousands of these ingenious\ninsects, so common in all the Canaries, and whose produce is so much\nesteemed.  Naturally enough, the Canadian wished to gather the honey,\nand I could not well oppose his wish.  A quantity of dry leaves, mixed\nwith sulphur, he lit with a spark from his flint, and he began to smoke\nout the bees.  The humming ceased by degrees, and the hive eventually\nyielded several pounds of the sweetest honey, with which Ned Land\nfilled his haversack.\n\n\"When I have mixed this honey with the paste of the bread-fruit,\" said\nhe, \"I shall be able to offer you a succulent cake.\"\n\n[Transcriber's Note: 'bread-fruit' has been substituted for\n'artocarpus' in this ed.]\n\n\"'Pon my word,\" said Conseil, \"it will be gingerbread.\"\n\n\"Never mind the gingerbread,\" said I; \"let us continue our interesting\nwalk.\"\n\nAt every turn of the path we were following, the lake appeared in all\nits length and breadth.  The lantern lit up the whole of its peaceable\nsurface, which knew neither ripple nor wave.  The Nautilus remained\nperfectly immovable.  On the platform, and on the mountain, the ship's\ncrew were working like black shadows clearly carved against the\nluminous atmosphere.  We were now going round the highest crest of the\nfirst layers of rock which upheld the roof.  I then saw that bees were\nnot the only representatives of the animal kingdom in the interior of\nthis volcano.  Birds of prey hovered here and there in the shadows, or\nfled from their nests on the top of the rocks.  There were sparrow\nhawks, with white breasts, and kestrels, and down the slopes scampered,\nwith their long legs, several fine fat bustards.  I leave anyone to\nimagine the covetousness of the Canadian at the sight of this savoury\ngame, and whether he did not regret having no gun.  But he did his best\nto replace the lead by stones, and, after several fruitless attempts,\nhe succeeded in wounding a magnificent bird.  To say that he risked his\nlife twenty times before reaching it is but the truth; but he managed\nso well that the creature joined the honey-cakes in his bag.  We were\nnow obliged to descend toward the shore, the crest becoming\nimpracticable.  Above us the crater seemed to gape like the mouth of a\nwell.  From this place the sky could be clearly seen, and clouds,\ndissipated by the west wind, leaving behind them, even on the summit of\nthe mountain, their misty remnants--certain proof that they were only\nmoderately high, for the volcano did not rise more than eight hundred\nfeet above the level of the ocean.  Half an hour after the Canadian's\nlast exploit we had regained the inner shore.  Here the flora was\nrepresented by large carpets of marine crystal, a little umbelliferous\nplant very good to pickle, which also bears the name of pierce-stone\nand sea-fennel. Conseil gathered some bundles of it.  As to the fauna,\nit might be counted by thousands of crustacea of all sorts, lobsters,\ncrabs, spider-crabs, chameleon shrimps, and a large number of shells,\nrockfish, and limpets.  Three-quarters of an hour later we had finished\nour circuitous walk and were on board.  The crew had just finished\nloading the sodium, and the Nautilus could have left that instant.  But\nCaptain Nemo gave no order.  Did he wish to wait until night, and leave\nthe submarine passage secretly?  Perhaps so.  Whatever it might be, the\nnext day, the Nautilus, having left its port, steered clear of all land\nat a few yards beneath the waves of the Atlantic.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XI\n\nTHE SARGASSO SEA\n\nThat day the Nautilus crossed a singular part of the Atlantic Ocean.\nNo one can be ignorant of the existence of a current of warm water\nknown by the name of the Gulf Stream.  After leaving the Gulf of\nFlorida, we went in the direction of Spitzbergen.  But before entering\nthe Gulf of Mexico, about 45° of N. lat., this current divides into\ntwo arms, the principal one going towards the coast of Ireland and\nNorway, whilst the second bends to the south about the height of the\nAzores; then, touching the African shore, and describing a lengthened\noval, returns to the Antilles.  This second arm--it is rather a collar\nthan an arm--surrounds with its circles of warm water that portion of\nthe cold, quiet, immovable ocean called the Sargasso Sea, a perfect\nlake in the open Atlantic: it takes no less than three years for the\ngreat current to pass round it.  Such was the region the Nautilus was\nnow visiting, a perfect meadow, a close carpet of seaweed, fucus, and\ntropical berries, so thick and so compact that the stem of a vessel\ncould hardly tear its way through it.  And Captain Nemo, not wishing to\nentangle his screw in this herbaceous mass, kept some yards beneath the\nsurface of the waves.  The name Sargasso comes from the Spanish word\n\"sargazzo\" which signifies kelp.  This kelp, or berry-plant, is the\nprincipal formation of this immense bank.  And this is the reason why\nthese plants unite in the peaceful basin of the Atlantic.  The only\nexplanation which can be given, he says, seems to me to result from the\nexperience known to all the world.  Place in a vase some fragments of\ncork or other floating body, and give to the water in the vase a\ncircular movement, the scattered fragments will unite in a group in the\ncentre of the liquid surface, that is to say, in the part least\nagitated.  In the phenomenon we are considering, the Atlantic is the\nvase, the Gulf Stream the circular current, and the Sargasso Sea the\ncentral point at which the floating bodies unite.\n\nI share Maury's opinion, and I was able to study the phenomenon in the\nvery midst, where vessels rarely penetrate.  Above us floated products\nof all kinds, heaped up among these brownish plants; trunks of trees\ntorn from the Andes or the Rocky Mountains, and floated by the Amazon\nor the Mississippi; numerous wrecks, remains of keels, or ships'\nbottoms, side-planks stove in, and so weighted with shells and\nbarnacles that they could not again rise to the surface.  And time will\none day justify Maury's other opinion, that these substances thus\naccumulated for ages will become petrified by the action of the water\nand will then form inexhaustible coal-mines--a precious reserve\nprepared by far-seeing Nature for the moment when men shall have\nexhausted the mines of continents.\n\nIn the midst of this inextricable mass of plants and sea weed, I\nnoticed some charming pink halcyons and actiniae, with their long\ntentacles trailing after them, and medusae, green, red, and blue.\n\nAll the day of the 22nd of February we passed in the Sargasso Sea,\nwhere such fish as are partial to marine plants find abundant\nnourishment.  The next, the ocean had returned to its accustomed\naspect.  From this time for nineteen days, from the 23rd of February to\nthe 12th of March, the Nautilus kept in the middle of the Atlantic,\ncarrying us at a constant speed of a hundred leagues in twenty-four\nhours.  Captain Nemo evidently intended accomplishing his submarine\nprogramme, and I imagined that he intended, after doubling Cape Horn,\nto return to the Australian seas of the Pacific.  Ned Land had cause\nfor fear.  In these large seas, void of islands, we could not attempt\nto leave the boat.  Nor had we any means of opposing Captain Nemo's\nwill.  Our only course was to submit; but what we could neither gain by\nforce nor cunning, I liked to think might be obtained by persuasion.\nThis voyage ended, would he not consent to restore our liberty, under\nan oath never to reveal his existence?--an oath of honour which we\nshould have religiously kept.  But we must consider that delicate\nquestion with the Captain.  But was I free to claim this liberty?  Had\nhe not himself said from the beginning, in the firmest manner, that the\nsecret of his life exacted from him our lasting imprisonment on board\nthe Nautilus?  And would not my four months' silence appear to him a\ntacit acceptance of our situation?  And would not a return to the\nsubject result in raising suspicions which might be hurtful to our\nprojects, if at some future time a favourable opportunity offered to\nreturn to them?\n\nDuring the nineteen days mentioned above, no incident of any kind\nhappened to signalise our voyage.  I saw little of the Captain; he was\nat work.  In the library I often found his books left open, especially\nthose on natural history.  My work on submarine depths, conned over by\nhim, was covered with marginal notes, often contradicting my theories\nand systems; but the Captain contented himself with thus purging my\nwork; it was very rare for him to discuss it with me.  Sometimes I\nheard the melancholy tones of his organ; but only at night, in the\nmidst of the deepest obscurity, when the Nautilus slept upon the\ndeserted ocean.  During this part of our voyage we sailed whole days on\nthe surface of the waves.  The sea seemed abandoned.  A few\nsailing-vessels, on the road to India, were making for the Cape of Good\nHope.  One day we were followed by the boats of a whaler, who, no\ndoubt, took us for some enormous whale of great price; but Captain Nemo\ndid not wish the worthy fellows to lose their time and trouble, so\nended the chase by plunging under the water.  Our navigation continued\nuntil the 13th of March; that day the Nautilus was employed in taking\nsoundings, which greatly interested me.  We had then made about 13,000\nleagues since our departure from the high seas of the Pacific.  The\nbearings gave us 45° 37' S. lat., and 37° 53' W. long.  It was\nthe same water in which Captain Denham of the Herald sounded 7,000\nfathoms without finding the bottom.  There, too, Lieutenant Parker, of\nthe American frigate Congress, could not touch the bottom with 15,140\nfathoms.  Captain Nemo intended seeking the bottom of the ocean by a\ndiagonal sufficiently lengthened by means of lateral planes placed at\nan angle of 45° with the water-line of the Nautilus.  Then the\nscrew set to work at its maximum speed, its four blades beating the\nwaves with in describable force.  Under this powerful pressure, the\nhull of the Nautilus quivered like a sonorous chord and sank regularly\nunder the water.\n\nAt 7,000 fathoms I saw some blackish tops rising from the midst of the\nwaters; but these summits might belong to high mountains like the\nHimalayas or Mont Blanc, even higher; and the depth of the abyss\nremained incalculable.  The Nautilus descended still lower, in spite of\nthe great pressure.  I felt the steel plates tremble at the fastenings\nof the bolts; its bars bent, its partitions groaned; the windows of the\nsaloon seemed to curve under the pressure of the waters.  And this firm\nstructure would doubtless have yielded, if, as its Captain had said, it\nhad not been capable of resistance like a solid block.  We had attained\na depth of 16,000 yards (four leagues), and the sides of the Nautilus\nthen bore a pressure of 1,600 atmospheres, that is to say, 3,200 lb.\nto each square two-fifths of an inch of its surface.\n\n\"What a situation to be in!\"  I exclaimed.  \"To overrun these deep\nregions where man has never trod!  Look, Captain, look at these\nmagnificent rocks, these uninhabited grottoes, these lowest receptacles\nof the globe, where life is no longer possible!  What unknown sights\nare here!  Why should we be unable to preserve a remembrance of them?\"\n\n\"Would you like to carry away more than the remembrance?\" said Captain\nNemo.\n\n\"What do you mean by those words?\"\n\n\"I mean to say that nothing is easier than to make a photographic view\nof this submarine region.\"\n\nI had not time to express my surprise at this new proposition, when, at\nCaptain Nemo's call, an objective was brought into the saloon.  Through\nthe widely-opened panel, the liquid mass was bright with electricity,\nwhich was distributed with such uniformity that not a shadow, not a\ngradation, was to be seen in our manufactured light.  The Nautilus\nremained motionless, the force of its screw subdued by the inclination\nof its planes: the instrument was propped on the bottom of the oceanic\nsite, and in a few seconds we had obtained a perfect negative.\n\nBut, the operation being over, Captain Nemo said, \"Let us go up; we\nmust not abuse our position, nor expose the Nautilus too long to such\ngreat pressure.\"\n\n\"Go up again!\"  I exclaimed.\n\n\"Hold well on.\"\n\nI had not time to understand why the Captain cautioned me thus, when I\nwas thrown forward on to the carpet.  At a signal from the Captain, its\nscrew was shipped, and its blades raised vertically; the Nautilus shot\ninto the air like a balloon, rising with stunning rapidity, and cutting\nthe mass of waters with a sonorous agitation.  Nothing was visible; and\nin four minutes it had shot through the four leagues which separated it\nfrom the ocean, and, after emerging like a flying-fish, fell, making\nthe waves rebound to an enormous height.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XII\n\nCACHALOTS AND WHALES\n\nDuring the nights of the 13th and 14th of March, the Nautilus returned\nto its southerly course.  I fancied that, when on a level with Cape\nHorn, he would turn the helm westward, in order to beat the Pacific\nseas, and so complete the tour of the world.  He did nothing of the\nkind, but continued on his way to the southern regions.  Where was he\ngoing to?  To the pole?  It was madness!  I began to think that the\nCaptain's temerity justified Ned Land's fears.  For some time past the\nCanadian had not spoken to me of his projects of flight; he was less\ncommunicative, almost silent.  I could see that this lengthened\nimprisonment was weighing upon him, and I felt that rage was burning\nwithin him.  When he met the Captain, his eyes lit up with suppressed\nanger; and I feared that his natural violence would lead him into some\nextreme.  That day, the 14th of March, Conseil and he came to me in my\nroom.  I inquired the cause of their visit.\n\n\"A simple question to ask you, sir,\" replied the Canadian.\n\n\"Speak, Ned.\"\n\n\"How many men are there on board the Nautilus, do you think?\"\n\n\"I cannot tell, my friend.\"\n\n\"I should say that its working does not require a large crew.\"\n\n\"Certainly, under existing conditions, ten men, at the most, ought to\nbe enough.\"\n\n\"Well, why should there be any more?\"\n\n\"Why?\"  I replied, looking fixedly at Ned Land, whose meaning was easy\nto guess.  \"Because,\" I added, \"if my surmises are correct, and if I\nhave well understood the Captain's existence, the Nautilus is not only\na vessel: it is also a place of refuge for those who, like its\ncommander, have broken every tie upon earth.\"\n\n\"Perhaps so,\" said Conseil; \"but, in any case, the Nautilus can only\ncontain a certain number of men.  Could not you, sir, estimate their\nmaximum?\"\n\n\"How, Conseil?\"\n\n\"By calculation; given the size of the vessel, which you know, sir, and\nconsequently the quantity of air it contains, knowing also how much\neach man expends at a breath, and comparing these results with the fact\nthat the Nautilus is obliged to go to the surface every twenty-four\nhours.\"\n\nConseil had not finished the sentence before I saw what he was driving\nat.\n\n\"I understand,\" said I; \"but that calculation, though simple enough,\ncan give but a very uncertain result.\"\n\n\"Never mind,\" said Ned Land urgently.\n\n\"Here it is, then,\" said I. \"In one hour each man consumes the oxygen\ncontained in twenty gallons of air; and in twenty-four, that contained\nin 480 gallons.  We must, therefore find how many times 480 gallons of\nair the Nautilus contains.\"\n\n\"Just so,\" said Conseil.\n\n\"Or,\" I continued, \"the size of the Nautilus being 1,500 tons; and one\nton holding 200 gallons, it contains 300,000 gallons of air, which,\ndivided by 480, gives a quotient of 625.  Which means to say, strictly\nspeaking, that the air contained in the Nautilus would suffice for 625\nmen for twenty-four hours.\"\n\n\"Six hundred and twenty-five!\" repeated Ned.\n\n\"But remember that all of us, passengers, sailors, and officers\nincluded, would not form a tenth part of that number.\"\n\n\"Still too many for three men,\" murmured Conseil.\n\nThe Canadian shook his head, passed his hand across his forehead, and\nleft the room without answering.\n\n\"Will you allow me to make one observation, sir?\" said Conseil.  \"Poor\nNed is longing for everything that he can not have.  His past life is\nalways present to him; everything that we are forbidden he regrets.\nHis head is full of old recollections.  And we must understand him.\nWhat has he to do here?  Nothing; he is not learned like you, sir; and\nhas not the same taste for the beauties of the sea that we have.  He\nwould risk everything to be able to go once more into a tavern in his\nown country.\"\n\nCertainly the monotony on board must seem intolerable to the Canadian,\naccustomed as he was to a life of liberty and activity.  Events were\nrare which could rouse him to any show of spirit; but that day an event\ndid happen which recalled the bright days of the harpooner.  About\neleven in the morning, being on the surface of the ocean, the Nautilus\nfell in with a troop of whales--an encounter which did not astonish me,\nknowing that these creatures, hunted to death, had taken refuge in high\nlatitudes.\n\nWe were seated on the platform, with a quiet sea.  The month of October\nin those latitudes gave us some lovely autumnal days.  It was the\nCanadian--he could not be mistaken--who signalled a whale on the\neastern horizon.  Looking attentively, one might see its black back\nrise and fall with the waves five miles from the Nautilus.\n\n\"Ah!\" exclaimed Ned Land, \"if I was on board a whaler, now such a\nmeeting would give me pleasure.  It is one of large size.  See with\nwhat strength its blow-holes throw up columns of air an steam!\nConfound it, why am I bound to these steel plates?\"\n\n\"What, Ned,\" said I, \"you have not forgotten your old ideas of fishing?\"\n\n\"Can a whale-fisher ever forget his old trade, sir?  Can he ever tire\nof the emotions caused by such a chase?\"\n\n\"You have never fished in these seas, Ned?\"\n\n\"Never, sir; in the northern only, and as much in Behring as in Davis\nStraits.\"\n\n\"Then the southern whale is still unknown to you.  It is the Greenland\nwhale you have hunted up to this time, and that would not risk passing\nthrough the warm waters of the equator.  Whales are localised,\naccording to their kinds, in certain seas which they never leave.  And\nif one of these creatures went from Behring to Davis Straits, it must\nbe simply because there is a passage from one sea to the other, either\non the American or the Asiatic side.\"\n\n\"In that case, as I have never fished in these seas, I do not know the\nkind of whale frequenting them!\"\n\n\"I have told you, Ned.\"\n\n\"A greater reason for making their acquaintance,\" said Conseil.\n\n\"Look! look!\" exclaimed the Canadian, \"they approach: they aggravate\nme; they know that I cannot get at them!\"\n\nNed stamped his feet.  His hand trembled, as he grasped an imaginary\nharpoon.\n\n\"Are these cetaceans as large as those of the northern seas?\" asked he.\n\n\"Very nearly, Ned.\"\n\n\"Because I have seen large whales, sir, whales measuring a hundred\nfeet.  I have even been told that those of Hullamoch and Umgallick, of\nthe Aleutian Islands, are sometimes a hundred and fifty feet long.\"\n\n\"That seems to me exaggeration. These creatures are only\nbalaeaopterons, provided with dorsal fins; and, like the cachalots, are\ngenerally much smaller than the Greenland whale.\"\n\n\"Ah!\" exclaimed the Canadian, whose eyes had never left the ocean,\n\"they are coming nearer; they are in the same water as the Nautilus.\"\n\nThen, returning to the conversation, he said:\n\n\"You spoke of the cachalot as a small creature.  I have heard of\ngigantic ones.  They are intelligent cetacea.  It is said of some that\nthey cover themselves with seaweed and fucus, and then are taken for\nislands.  People encamp upon them, and settle there; lights a fire----\"\n\n\"And build houses,\" said Conseil.\n\n\"Yes, joker,\" said Ned Land.  \"And one fine day the creature plunges,\ncarrying with it all the inhabitants to the bottom of the sea.\"\n\n\"Something like the travels of Sinbad the Sailor,\" I replied, laughing.\n\n\"Ah!\" suddenly exclaimed Ned Land, \"it is not one whale; there are\nten--there are twenty--it is a whole troop!  And I not able to do\nanything! hands and feet tied!\"\n\n\"But, friend Ned,\" said Conseil, \"why do you not ask Captain Nemo's\npermission to chase them?\"\n\nConseil had not finished his sentence when Ned Land had lowered himself\nthrough the panel to seek the Captain.  A few minutes afterwards the\ntwo appeared together on the platform.\n\nCaptain Nemo watched the troop of cetacea playing on the waters about a\nmile from the Nautilus.\n\n\"They are southern whales,\" said he; \"there goes the fortune of a whole\nfleet of whalers.\"\n\n\"Well, sir,\" asked the Canadian, \"can I not chase them, if only to\nremind me of my old trade of harpooner?\"\n\n\"And to what purpose?\" replied Captain Nemo; \"only to destroy!  We have\nnothing to do with the whale-oil on board.\"\n\n\"But, sir,\" continued the Canadian, \"in the Red Sea you allowed us to\nfollow the dugong.\"\n\n\"Then it was to procure fresh meat for my crew.  Here it would be\nkilling for killing's sake.  I know that is a privilege reserved for\nman, but I do not approve of such murderous pastime.  In destroying the\nsouthern whale (like the Greenland whale, an inoffensive creature),\nyour traders do a culpable action, Master Land.  They have already\ndepopulated the whole of Baffin's Bay, and are annihilating a class of\nuseful animals.  Leave the unfortunate cetacea alone.  They have plenty\nof natural enemies--cachalots, swordfish, and sawfish--without you\ntroubling them.\"\n\nThe Captain was right.  The barbarous and inconsiderate greed of these\nfishermen will one day cause the disappearance of the last whale in the\nocean.  Ned Land whistled \"Yankee-doodle\" between his teeth, thrust his\nhands into his pockets, and turned his back upon us.  But Captain Nemo\nwatched the troop of cetacea, and, addressing me, said:\n\n\"I was right in saying that whales had natural enemies enough, without\ncounting man.  These will have plenty to do before long.  Do you see,\nM. Aronnax, about eight miles to leeward, those blackish moving points?\"\n\n\"Yes, Captain,\" I replied.\n\n\"Those are cachalots--terrible animals, which I have met in troops of\ntwo or three hundred.  As to those, they are cruel, mischievous\ncreatures; they would be right in exterminating them.\"\n\nThe Canadian turned quickly at the last words.\n\n\"Well, Captain,\" said he, \"it is still time, in the interest of the\nwhales.\"\n\n\"It is useless to expose one's self, Professor.  The Nautilus will\ndisperse them.  It is armed with a steel spur as good as Master Land's\nharpoon, I imagine.\"\n\nThe Canadian did not put himself out enough to shrug his shoulders.\nAttack cetacea with blows of a spur!  Who had ever heard of such a\nthing?\n\n\"Wait, M. Aronnax,\" said Captain Nemo.  \"We will show you something you\nhave never yet seen.  We have no pity for these ferocious creatures.\nThey are nothing but mouth and teeth.\"\n\nMouth and teeth!  No one could better describe the macrocephalous\ncachalot, which is sometimes more than seventy-five feet long.  Its\nenormous head occupies one-third of its entire body.  Better armed than\nthe whale, whose upper jaw is furnished only with whalebone, it is\nsupplied with twenty-five large tusks, about eight inches long,\ncylindrical and conical at the top, each weighing two pounds.  It is in\nthe upper part of this enormous head, in great cavities divided by\ncartilages, that is to be found from six to eight hundred pounds of\nthat precious oil called spermaceti.  The cachalot is a disagreeable\ncreature, more tadpole than fish, according to Fredol's description.\nIt is badly formed, the whole of its left side being (if we may say\nit), a \"failure,\" and being only able to see with its right eye.  But\nthe formidable troop was nearing us.  They had seen the whales and were\npreparing to attack them.  One could judge beforehand that the\ncachalots would be victorious, not only because they were better built\nfor attack than their inoffensive adversaries, but also because they\ncould remain longer under water without coming to the surface.  There\nwas only just time to go to the help of the whales.  The Nautilus went\nunder water.  Conseil, Ned Land, and I took our places before the\nwindow in the saloon, and Captain Nemo joined the pilot in his cage to\nwork his apparatus as an engine of destruction.  Soon I felt the\nbeatings of the screw quicken, and our speed increased.  The battle\nbetween the cachalots and the whales had already begun when the\nNautilus arrived.  They did not at first show any fear at the sight of\nthis new monster joining in the conflict.  But they soon had to guard\nagainst its blows.  What a battle!  The Nautilus was nothing but a\nformidable harpoon, brandished by the hand of its Captain.  It hurled\nitself against the fleshy mass, passing through from one part to the\nother, leaving behind it two quivering halves of the animal.  It could\nnot feel the formidable blows from their tails upon its sides, nor the\nshock which it produced itself, much more.  One cachalot killed, it ran\nat the next, tacked on the spot that it might not miss its prey, going\nforwards and backwards, answering to its helm, plunging when the\ncetacean dived into the deep waters, coming up with it when it returned\nto the surface, striking it front or sideways, cutting or tearing in\nall directions and at any pace, piercing it with its terrible spur.\nWhat carnage!  What a noise on the surface of the waves!  What sharp\nhissing, and what snorting peculiar to these enraged animals!  In the\nmidst of these waters, generally so peaceful, their tails made perfect\nbillows.  For one hour this wholesale massacre continued, from which\nthe cachalots could not escape.  Several times ten or twelve united\ntried to crush the Nautilus by their weight.  From the window we could\nsee their enormous mouths, studded with tusks, and their formidable\neyes.  Ned Land could not contain himself; he threatened and swore at\nthem.  We could feel them clinging to our vessel like dogs worrying a\nwild boar in a copse.  But the Nautilus, working its screw, carried\nthem here and there, or to the upper levels of the ocean, without\ncaring for their enormous weight, nor the powerful strain on the\nvessel.  At length the mass of cachalots broke up, the waves became\nquiet, and I felt that we were rising to the surface.  The panel\nopened, and we hurried on to the platform.  The sea was covered with\nmutilated bodies.  A formidable explosion could not have divided and\ntorn this fleshy mass with more violence.  We were floating amid\ngigantic bodies, bluish on the back and white underneath, covered with\nenormous protuberances.  Some terrified cachalots were flying towards\nthe horizon.  The waves were dyed red for several miles, and the\nNautilus floated in a sea of blood:  Captain Nemo joined us.\n\n\"Well, Master Land?\" said he.\n\n\"Well, sir,\" replied the Canadian, whose enthusiasm had somewhat\ncalmed; \"it is a terrible spectacle, certainly.  But I am not a\nbutcher.  I am a hunter, and I call this a butchery.\"\n\n\"It is a massacre of mischievous creatures,\" replied the Captain; \"and\nthe Nautilus is not a butcher's knife.\"\n\n\"I like my harpoon better,\" said the Canadian.\n\n\"Every one to his own,\" answered the Captain, looking fixedly at Ned\nLand.\n\nI feared he would commit some act of violence, which would end in sad\nconsequences.  But his anger was turned by the sight of a whale which\nthe Nautilus had just come up with.  The creature had not quite escaped\nfrom the cachalot's teeth.  I recognised the southern whale by its flat\nhead, which is entirely black.  Anatomically, it is distinguished from\nthe white whale and the North Cape whale by the seven cervical\nvertebrae, and it has two more ribs than its congeners.  The\nunfortunate cetacean was lying on its side, riddled with holes from the\nbites, and quite dead.  From its mutilated fin still hung a young whale\nwhich it could not save from the massacre.  Its open mouth let the\nwater flow in and out, murmuring like the waves breaking on the shore.\nCaptain Nemo steered close to the corpse of the creature.  Two of his\nmen mounted its side, and I saw, not without surprise, that they were\ndrawing from its breasts all the milk which they contained, that is to\nsay, about two or three tons.  The Captain offered me a cup of the\nmilk, which was still warm.  I could not help showing my repugnance to\nthe drink; but he assured me that it was excellent, and not to be\ndistinguished from cow's milk.  I tasted it, and was of his opinion.\nIt was a useful reserve to us, for in the shape of salt butter or\ncheese it would form an agreeable variety from our ordinary food.  From\nthat day I noticed with uneasiness that Ned Land's ill-will towards\nCaptain Nemo increased, and I resolved to watch the Canadian's gestures\nclosely.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XIII\n\nTHE ICEBERG\n\nThe Nautilus was steadily pursuing its southerly course, following the\nfiftieth meridian with considerable speed.  Did he wish to reach the\npole?  I did not think so, for every attempt to reach that point had\nhitherto failed.  Again, the season was far advanced, for in the\nAntarctic regions the 13th of March corresponds with the 13th of\nSeptember of northern regions, which begin at the equinoctial season.\nOn the 14th of March I saw floating ice in latitude 55°, merely\npale bits of debris from twenty to twenty-five feet long, forming banks\nover which the sea curled.  The Nautilus remained on the surface of the\nocean.  Ned Land, who had fished in the Arctic Seas, was familiar with\nits icebergs; but Conseil and I admired them for the first time.  In\nthe atmosphere towards the southern horizon stretched a white dazzling\nband.  English whalers have given it the name of \"ice blink.\"  However\nthick the clouds may be, it is always visible, and announces the\npresence of an ice pack or bank.  Accordingly, larger blocks soon\nappeared, whose brilliancy changed with the caprices of the fog.  Some\nof these masses showed green veins, as if long undulating lines had\nbeen traced with sulphate of copper; others resembled enormous\namethysts with the light shining through them.  Some reflected the\nlight of day upon a thousand crystal facets.  Others shaded with vivid\ncalcareous reflections resembled a perfect town of marble.  The more we\nneared the south the more these floating islands increased both in\nnumber and importance.\n\nAt 60° lat. every pass had disappeared.  But, seeking carefully,\nCaptain Nemo soon found a narrow opening, through which he boldly\nslipped, knowing, however, that it would close behind him.  Thus,\nguided by this clever hand, the Nautilus passed through all the ice\nwith a precision which quite charmed Conseil; icebergs or mountains,\nice-fields or smooth plains, seeming to have no limits, drift-ice or\nfloating ice-packs, plains broken up, called palchs when they are\ncircular, and streams when they are made up of long strips.  The\ntemperature was very low; the thermometer exposed to the air marked 2\ndeg. or 3° below zero, but we were warmly clad with fur, at the\nexpense of the sea-bear and seal.  The interior of the Nautilus, warmed\nregularly by its electric apparatus, defied the most intense cold.\nBesides, it would only have been necessary to go some yards beneath the\nwaves to find a more bearable temperature.  Two months earlier we\nshould have had perpetual daylight in these latitudes; but already we\nhad had three or four hours of night, and by and by there would be six\nmonths of darkness in these circumpolar regions.  On the 15th of March\nwe were in the latitude of New Shetland and South Orkney.  The Captain\ntold me that formerly numerous tribes of seals inhabited them; but that\nEnglish and American whalers, in their rage for destruction, massacred\nboth old and young; thus, where there was once life and animation, they\nhad left silence and death.\n\nAbout eight o'clock on the morning of the 16th of March the Nautilus,\nfollowing the fifty-fifth meridian, cut the Antarctic polar circle.\nIce surrounded us on all sides, and closed the horizon.  But Captain\nNemo went from one opening to another, still going higher.  I cannot\nexpress my astonishment at the beauties of these new regions.  The ice\ntook most surprising forms.  Here the grouping formed an oriental town,\nwith innumerable mosques and minarets; there a fallen city thrown to\nthe earth, as it were, by some convulsion of nature.  The whole aspect\nwas constantly changed by the oblique rays of the sun, or lost in the\ngreyish fog amidst hurricanes of snow.  Detonations and falls were\nheard on all sides, great overthrows of icebergs, which altered the\nwhole landscape like a diorama.  Often seeing no exit, I thought we\nwere definitely prisoners; but, instinct guiding him at the slightest\nindication, Captain Nemo would discover a new pass.  He was never\nmistaken when he saw the thin threads of bluish water trickling along\nthe ice-fields; and I had no doubt that he had already ventured into\nthe midst of these Antarctic seas before.  On the 16th of March,\nhowever, the ice-fields absolutely blocked our road.  It was not the\niceberg itself, as yet, but vast fields cemented by the cold.  But this\nobstacle could not stop Captain Nemo: he hurled himself against it with\nfrightful violence.  The Nautilus entered the brittle mass like a\nwedge, and split it with frightful crackings.  It was the battering ram\nof the ancients hurled by infinite strength.  The ice, thrown high in\nthe air, fell like hail around us.  By its own power of impulsion our\napparatus made a canal for itself; some times carried away by its own\nimpetus, it lodged on the ice-field, crushing it with its weight, and\nsometimes buried beneath it, dividing it by a simple pitching movement,\nproducing large rents in it.  Violent gales assailed us at this time,\naccompanied by thick fogs, through which, from one end of the platform\nto the other, we could see nothing.  The wind blew sharply from all\nparts of the compass, and the snow lay in such hard heaps that we had\nto break it with blows of a pickaxe.  The temperature was always at 5\ndeg. below zero; every outward part of the Nautilus was covered with\nice.  A rigged vessel would have been entangled in the blocked up\ngorges.  A vessel without sails, with electricity for its motive power,\nand wanting no coal, could alone brave such high latitudes.  At length,\non the 18th of March, after many useless assaults, the Nautilus was\npositively blocked.  It was no longer either streams, packs, or\nice-fields, but an interminable and immovable barrier, formed by\nmountains soldered together.\n\n\"An iceberg!\" said the Canadian to me.\n\nI knew that to Ned Land, as well as to all other navigators who had\npreceded us, this was an inevitable obstacle.  The sun appearing for an\ninstant at noon, Captain Nemo took an observation as near as possible,\nwhich gave our situation at 51° 30' long. and 67° 39' of S.\nlat.  We had advanced one degree more in this Antarctic region.  Of the\nliquid surface of the sea there was no longer a glimpse.  Under the\nspur of the Nautilus lay stretched a vast plain, entangled with\nconfused blocks.  Here and there sharp points and slender needles\nrising to a height of 200 feet; further on a steep shore, hewn as it\nwere with an axe and clothed with greyish tints; huge mirrors,\nreflecting a few rays of sunshine, half drowned in the fog.  And over\nthis desolate face of nature a stern silence reigned, scarcely broken\nby the flapping of the wings of petrels and puffins.  Everything was\nfrozen--even the noise.  The Nautilus was then obliged to stop in its\nadventurous course amid these fields of ice.  In spite of our efforts,\nin spite of the powerful means employed to break up the ice, the\nNautilus remained immovable.  Generally, when we can proceed no\nfurther, we have return still open to us; but here return was as\nimpossible as advance, for every pass had closed behind us; and for the\nfew moments when we were stationary, we were likely to be entirely\nblocked, which did indeed happen about two o'clock in the afternoon,\nthe fresh ice forming around its sides with astonishing rapidity.  I\nwas obliged to admit that Captain Nemo was more than imprudent.  I was\non the platform at that moment.  The Captain had been observing our\nsituation for some time past, when he said to me:\n\n\"Well, sir, what do you think of this?\"\n\n\"I think that we are caught, Captain.\"\n\n\"So, M. Aronnax, you really think that the Nautilus cannot disengage\nitself?\"\n\n\"With difficulty, Captain; for the season is already too far advanced\nfor you to reckon on the breaking of the ice.\"\n\n\"Ah! sir,\" said Captain Nemo, in an ironical tone, \"you will always be\nthe same.  You see nothing but difficulties and obstacles.  I affirm\nthat not only can the Nautilus disengage itself, but also that it can\ngo further still.\"\n\n\"Further to the South?\"  I asked, looking at the Captain.\n\n\"Yes, sir; it shall go to the pole.\"\n\n\"To the pole!\"  I exclaimed, unable to repress a gesture of incredulity.\n\n\"Yes,\" replied the Captain, coldly, \"to the Antarctic pole--to that\nunknown point from whence springs every meridian of the globe.  You\nknow whether I can do as I please with the Nautilus!\"\n\nYes, I knew that.  I knew that this man was bold, even to rashness.\nBut to conquer those obstacles which bristled round the South Pole,\nrendering it more inaccessible than the North, which had not yet been\nreached by the boldest navigators--was it not a mad enterprise, one\nwhich only a maniac would have conceived?  It then came into my head to\nask Captain Nemo if he had ever discovered that pole which had never\nyet been trodden by a human creature?\n\n\"No, sir,\" he replied; \"but we will discover it together.  Where others\nhave failed, I will not fail.  I have never yet led my Nautilus so far\ninto southern seas; but, I repeat, it shall go further yet.\"\n\n\"I can well believe you, Captain,\" said I, in a slightly ironical tone.\n\"I believe you!  Let us go ahead!  There are no obstacles for us!  Let\nus smash this iceberg!  Let us blow it up; and, if it resists, let us\ngive the Nautilus wings to fly over it!\"\n\n\"Over it, sir!\" said Captain Nemo, quietly; \"no, not over it, but under\nit!\"\n\n\"Under it!\"  I exclaimed, a sudden idea of the Captain's projects\nflashing upon my mind.  I understood; the wonderful qualities of the\nNautilus were going to serve us in this superhuman enterprise.\n\n\"I see we are beginning to understand one another, sir,\" said the\nCaptain, half smiling.  \"You begin to see the possibility--I should say\nthe success--of this attempt.  That which is impossible for an ordinary\nvessel is easy to the Nautilus.  If a continent lies before the pole,\nit must stop before the continent; but if, on the contrary, the pole is\nwashed by open sea, it will go even to the pole.\"\n\n\"Certainly,\" said I, carried away by the Captain's reasoning; \"if the\nsurface of the sea is solidified by the ice, the lower depths are free\nby the Providential law which has placed the maximum of density of the\nwaters of the ocean one degree higher than freezing-point; and, if I am\nnot mistaken, the portion of this iceberg which is above the water is\nas one to four to that which is below.\"\n\n\"Very nearly, sir; for one foot of iceberg above the sea there are\nthree below it.  If these ice mountains are not more than 300 feet\nabove the surface, they are not more than 900 beneath.  And what are\n900 feet to the Nautilus?\"\n\n\"Nothing, sir.\"\n\n\"It could even seek at greater depths that uniform temperature of\nsea-water, and there brave with impunity the thirty or forty degrees of\nsurface cold.\"\n\n\"Just so, sir--just so,\" I replied, getting animated.\n\n\"The only difficulty,\" continued Captain Nemo, \"is that of remaining\nseveral days without renewing our provision of air.\"\n\n\"Is that all?  The Nautilus has vast reservoirs; we can fill them, and\nthey will supply us with all the oxygen we want.\"\n\n\"Well thought of, M. Aronnax,\" replied the Captain, smiling.  \"But, not\nwishing you to accuse me of rashness, I will first give you all my\nobjections.\"\n\n\"Have you any more to make?\"\n\n\"Only one.  It is possible, if the sea exists at the South Pole, that\nit may be covered; and, consequently, we shall be unable to come to the\nsurface.\"\n\n\"Good, sir! but do you forget that the Nautilus is armed with a\npowerful spur, and could we not send it diagonally against these fields\nof ice, which would open at the shocks.\"\n\n\"Ah! sir, you are full of ideas to-day.\"\n\n\"Besides, Captain,\" I added, enthusiastically, \"why should we not find\nthe sea open at the South Pole as well as at the North?  The frozen\npoles of the earth do not coincide, either in the southern or in the\nnorthern regions; and, until it is proved to the contrary, we may\nsuppose either a continent or an ocean free from ice at these two\npoints of the globe.\"\n\n\"I think so too, M. Aronnax,\" replied Captain Nemo.  \"I only wish you\nto observe that, after having made so many objections to my project,\nyou are now crushing me with arguments in its favour!\"\n\nThe preparations for this audacious attempt now began.  The powerful\npumps of the Nautilus were working air into the reservoirs and storing\nit at high pressure.  About four o'clock, Captain Nemo announced the\nclosing of the panels on the platform.  I threw one last look at the\nmassive iceberg which we were going to cross.  The weather was clear,\nthe atmosphere pure enough, the cold very great, being 12° below\nzero; but, the wind having gone down, this temperature was not so\nunbearable.  About ten men mounted the sides of the Nautilus, armed\nwith pickaxes to break the ice around the vessel, which was soon free.\nThe operation was quickly performed, for the fresh ice was still very\nthin.  We all went below.  The usual reservoirs were filled with the\nnewly-liberated water, and the Nautilus soon descended.  I had taken my\nplace with Conseil in the saloon; through the open window we could see\nthe lower beds of the Southern Ocean.  The thermometer went up, the\nneedle of the compass deviated on the dial.  At about 900 feet, as\nCaptain Nemo had foreseen, we were floating beneath the undulating\nbottom of the iceberg.  But the Nautilus went lower still--it went to\nthe depth of four hundred fathoms.  The temperature of the water at the\nsurface showed twelve degrees, it was now only ten; we had gained two.\nI need not say the temperature of the Nautilus was raised by its\nheating apparatus to a much higher degree; every manoeuvre was\naccomplished with wonderful precision.\n\n\"We shall pass it, if you please, sir,\" said Conseil.\n\n\"I believe we shall,\" I said, in a tone of firm conviction.\n\nIn this open sea, the Nautilus had taken its course direct to the pole,\nwithout leaving the fifty-second meridian.  From 67° 30' to 90\ndeg., twenty-two degrees and a half of latitude remained to travel;\nthat is, about five hundred leagues.  The Nautilus kept up a mean speed\nof twenty-six miles an hour--the speed of an express train.  If that\nwas kept up, in forty hours we should reach the pole.\n\nFor a part of the night the novelty of the situation kept us at the\nwindow.  The sea was lit with the electric lantern; but it was\ndeserted; fishes did not sojourn in these imprisoned waters; they only\nfound there a passage to take them from the Antarctic Ocean to the open\npolar sea.  Our pace was rapid; we could feel it by the quivering of\nthe long steel body.  About two in the morning I took some hours'\nrepose, and Conseil did the same.  In crossing the waist I did not meet\nCaptain Nemo: I supposed him to be in the pilot's cage.  The next\nmorning, the 19th of March, I took my post once more in the saloon.\nThe electric log told me that the speed of the Nautilus had been\nslackened.  It was then going towards the surface; but prudently\nemptying its reservoirs very slowly.  My heart beat fast.  Were we\ngoing to emerge and regain the open polar atmosphere?  No!  A shock\ntold me that the Nautilus had struck the bottom of the iceberg, still\nvery thick, judging from the deadened sound.  We had in deed \"struck,\"\nto use a sea expression, but in an inverse sense, and at a thousand\nfeet deep.  This would give three thousand feet of ice above us; one\nthousand being above the water-mark. The iceberg was then higher than\nat its borders--not a very reassuring fact.  Several times that day the\nNautilus tried again, and every time it struck the wall which lay like\na ceiling above it.  Sometimes it met with but 900 yards, only 200 of\nwhich rose above the surface.  It was twice the height it was when the\nNautilus had gone under the waves.  I carefully noted the different\ndepths, and thus obtained a submarine profile of the chain as it was\ndeveloped under the water.  That night no change had taken place in our\nsituation.  Still ice between four and five hundred yards in depth!  It\nwas evidently diminishing, but, still, what a thickness between us and\nthe surface of the ocean!  It was then eight.  According to the daily\ncustom on board the Nautilus, its air should have been renewed four\nhours ago; but I did not suffer much, although Captain Nemo had not yet\nmade any demand upon his reserve of oxygen.  My sleep was painful that\nnight; hope and fear besieged me by turns: I rose several times.  The\ngroping of the Nautilus continued.  About three in the morning, I\nnoticed that the lower surface of the iceberg was only about fifty feet\ndeep.  One hundred and fifty feet now separated us from the surface of\nthe waters.  The iceberg was by degrees becoming an ice-field, the\nmountain a plain.  My eyes never left the manometer.  We were still\nrising diagonally to the surface, which sparkled under the electric\nrays.  The iceberg was stretching both above and beneath into\nlengthening slopes; mile after mile it was getting thinner.  At length,\nat six in the morning of that memorable day, the 19th of March, the\ndoor of the saloon opened, and Captain Nemo appeared.\n\n\"The sea is open!!\" was all he said.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XIV\n\nTHE SOUTH POLE\n\nI rushed on to the platform.  Yes! the open sea, with but a few\nscattered pieces of ice and moving icebergs--a long stretch of sea; a\nworld of birds in the air, and myriads of fishes under those waters,\nwhich varied from intense blue to olive green, according to the bottom.\nThe thermometer marked 3° C. above zero.  It was comparatively\nspring, shut up as we were behind this iceberg, whose lengthened mass\nwas dimly seen on our northern horizon.\n\n\"Are we at the pole?\"  I asked the Captain, with a beating heart.\n\n\"I do not know,\" he replied.  \"At noon I will take our bearings.\"\n\n\"But will the sun show himself through this fog?\" said I, looking at\nthe leaden sky.\n\n\"However little it shows, it will be enough,\" replied the Captain.\n\nAbout ten miles south a solitary island rose to a height of one hundred\nand four yards.  We made for it, but carefully, for the sea might be\nstrewn with banks.  One hour afterwards we had reached it, two hours\nlater we had made the round of it.  It measured four or five miles in\ncircumference.  A narrow canal separated it from a considerable stretch\nof land, perhaps a continent, for we could not see its limits.  The\nexistence of this land seemed to give some colour to Maury's theory.\nThe ingenious American has remarked that, between the South Pole and\nthe sixtieth parallel, the sea is covered with floating ice of enormous\nsize, which is never met with in the North Atlantic.  From this fact he\nhas drawn the conclusion that the Antarctic Circle encloses\nconsiderable continents, as icebergs cannot form in open sea, but only\non the coasts.  According to these calculations, the mass of ice\nsurrounding the southern pole forms a vast cap, the circumference of\nwhich must be, at least, 2,500 miles.  But the Nautilus, for fear of\nrunning aground, had stopped about three cable-lengths from a strand\nover which reared a superb heap of rocks.  The boat was launched; the\nCaptain, two of his men, bearing instruments, Conseil, and myself were\nin it.  It was ten in the morning.  I had not seen Ned Land.  Doubtless\nthe Canadian did not wish to admit the presence of the South Pole.  A\nfew strokes of the oar brought us to the sand, where we ran ashore.\nConseil was going to jump on to the land, when I held him back.\n\n\"Sir,\" said I to Captain Nemo, \"to you belongs the honour of first\nsetting foot on this land.\"\n\n\"Yes, sir,\" said the Captain, \"and if I do not hesitate to tread this\nSouth Pole, it is because, up to this time, no human being has left a\ntrace there.\"\n\nSaying this, he jumped lightly on to the sand.  His heart beat with\nemotion.  He climbed a rock, sloping to a little promontory, and there,\nwith his arms crossed, mute and motionless, and with an eager look, he\nseemed to take possession of these southern regions.  After five\nminutes passed in this ecstasy, he turned to us.\n\n\"When you like, sir.\"\n\nI landed, followed by Conseil, leaving the two men in the boat.  For a\nlong way the soil was composed of a reddish sandy stone, something like\ncrushed brick, scoriae, streams of lava, and pumice-stones. One could\nnot mistake its volcanic origin.  In some parts, slight curls of smoke\nemitted a sulphurous smell, proving that the internal fires had lost\nnothing of their expansive powers, though, having climbed a high\nacclivity, I could see no volcano for a radius of several miles.  We\nknow that in those Antarctic countries, James Ross found two craters,\nthe Erebus and Terror, in full activity, on the 167th meridian,\nlatitude 77° 32'. The vegetation of this desolate continent seemed\nto me much restricted.  Some lichens lay upon the black rocks; some\nmicroscopic plants, rudimentary diatomas, a kind of cells placed\nbetween two quartz shells; long purple and scarlet weed, supported on\nlittle swimming bladders, which the breaking of the waves brought to\nthe shore.  These constituted the meagre flora of this region.  The\nshore was strewn with molluscs, little mussels, and limpets.  I also\nsaw myriads of northern clios, one-and-a-quarter inches long, of which\na whale would swallow a whole world at a mouthful; and some perfect\nsea-butterflies, animating the waters on the skirts of the shore.\n\nThere appeared on the high bottoms some coral shrubs, of the kind\nwhich, according to James Ross, live in the Antarctic seas to the depth\nof more than 1,000 yards.  Then there were little kingfishers and\nstarfish studding the soil.  But where life abounded most was in the\nair.  There thousands of birds fluttered and flew of all kinds,\ndeafening us with their cries; others crowded the rock, looking at us\nas we passed by without fear, and pressing familiarly close by our\nfeet.  There were penguins, so agile in the water, heavy and awkward as\nthey are on the ground; they were uttering harsh cries, a large\nassembly, sober in gesture, but extravagant in clamour.  Albatrosses\npassed in the air, the expanse of their wings being at least four yards\nand a half, and justly called the vultures of the ocean; some gigantic\npetrels, and some damiers, a kind of small duck, the underpart of whose\nbody is black and white; then there were a whole series of petrels,\nsome whitish, with brown-bordered wings, others blue, peculiar to the\nAntarctic seas, and so oily, as I told Conseil, that the inhabitants of\nthe Ferroe Islands had nothing to do before lighting them but to put a\nwick in.\n\n\"A little more,\" said Conseil, \"and they would be perfect lamps!  After\nthat, we cannot expect Nature to have previously furnished them with\nwicks!\"\n\nAbout half a mile farther on the soil was riddled with ruffs' nests, a\nsort of laying-ground, out of which many birds were issuing.  Captain\nNemo had some hundreds hunted.  They uttered a cry like the braying of\nan ass, were about the size of a goose, slate-colour on the body, white\nbeneath, with a yellow line round their throats; they allowed\nthemselves to be killed with a stone, never trying to escape.  But the\nfog did not lift, and at eleven the sun had not yet shown itself.  Its\nabsence made me uneasy.  Without it no observations were possible.\nHow, then, could we decide whether we had reached the pole?  When I\nrejoined Captain Nemo, I found him leaning on a piece of rock, silently\nwatching the sky.  He seemed impatient and vexed.  But what was to be\ndone?  This rash and powerful man could not command the sun as he did\nthe sea.  Noon arrived without the orb of day showing itself for an\ninstant.  We could not even tell its position behind the curtain of\nfog; and soon the fog turned to snow.\n\n\"Till to-morrow,\" said the Captain, quietly, and we returned to the\nNautilus amid these atmospheric disturbances.\n\nThe tempest of snow continued till the next day.  It was impossible to\nremain on the platform.  From the saloon, where I was taking notes of\nincidents happening during this excursion to the polar continent, I\ncould hear the cries of petrels and albatrosses sporting in the midst\nof this violent storm.  The Nautilus did not remain motionless, but\nskirted the coast, advancing ten miles more to the south in the\nhalf-light left by the sun as it skirted the edge of the horizon.  The\nnext day, the 20th of March, the snow had ceased.  The cold was a\nlittle greater, the thermometer showing 2° below zero.  The fog\nwas rising, and I hoped that that day our observations might be taken.\nCaptain Nemo not having yet appeared, the boat took Conseil and myself\nto land.  The soil was still of the same volcanic nature; everywhere\nwere traces of lava, scoriae, and basalt; but the crater which had\nvomited them I could not see.  Here, as lower down, this continent was\nalive with myriads of birds.  But their rule was now divided with large\ntroops of sea-mammals, looking at us with their soft eyes.  There were\nseveral kinds of seals, some stretched on the earth, some on flakes of\nice, many going in and out of the sea.  They did not flee at our\napproach, never having had anything to do with man; and I reckoned that\nthere were provisions there for hundreds of vessels.\n\n\"Sir,\" said Conseil, \"will you tell me the names of these creatures?\"\n\n\"They are seals and morses.\"\n\nIt was now eight in the morning.  Four hours remained to us before the\nsun could be observed with advantage.  I directed our steps towards a\nvast bay cut in the steep granite shore.  There, I can aver that earth\nand ice were lost to sight by the numbers of sea-mammals covering them,\nand I involuntarily sought for old Proteus, the mythological shepherd\nwho watched these immense flocks of Neptune.  There were more seals\nthan anything else, forming distinct groups, male and female, the\nfather watching over his family, the mother suckling her little ones,\nsome already strong enough to go a few steps.  When they wished to\nchange their place, they took little jumps, made by the contraction of\ntheir bodies, and helped awkwardly enough by their imperfect fin,\nwhich, as with the lamantin, their cousins, forms a perfect forearm.  I\nshould say that, in the water, which is their element--the spine of\nthese creatures is flexible; with smooth and close skin and webbed\nfeet--they swim admirably.  In resting on the earth they take the most\ngraceful attitudes.  Thus the ancients, observing their soft and\nexpressive looks, which cannot be surpassed by the most beautiful look\na woman can give, their clear voluptuous eyes, their charming\npositions, and the poetry of their manners, metamorphosed them, the\nmale into a triton and the female into a mermaid.  I made Conseil\nnotice the considerable development of the lobes of the brain in these\ninteresting cetaceans.  No mammal, except man, has such a quantity of\nbrain matter; they are also capable of receiving a certain amount of\neducation, are easily domesticated, and I think, with other\nnaturalists, that if properly taught they would be of great service as\nfishing-dogs.  The greater part of them slept on the rocks or on the\nsand.  Amongst these seals, properly so called, which have no external\nears (in which they differ from the otter, whose ears are prominent), I\nnoticed several varieties of seals about three yards long, with a white\ncoat, bulldog heads, armed with teeth in both jaws, four incisors at\nthe top and four at the bottom, and two large canine teeth in the shape\nof a fleur-de-lis. Amongst them glided sea-elephants, a kind of seal,\nwith short, flexible trunks.  The giants of this species measured\ntwenty feet round and ten yards and a half in length; but they did not\nmove as we approached.\n\n\"These creatures are not dangerous?\" asked Conseil.\n\n\"No; not unless you attack them.  When they have to defend their young\ntheir rage is terrible, and it is not uncommon for them to break the\nfishing-boats to pieces.\"\n\n\"They are quite right,\" said Conseil.\n\n\"I do not say they are not.\"\n\nTwo miles farther on we were stopped by the promontory which shelters\nthe bay from the southerly winds.  Beyond it we heard loud bellowings\nsuch as a troop of ruminants would produce.\n\n\"Good!\" said Conseil; \"a concert of bulls!\"\n\n\"No; a concert of morses.\"\n\n\"They are fighting!\"\n\n\"They are either fighting or playing.\"\n\nWe now began to climb the blackish rocks, amid unforeseen stumbles, and\nover stones which the ice made slippery.  More than once I rolled over\nat the expense of my loins.  Conseil, more prudent or more steady, did\nnot stumble, and helped me up, saying:\n\n\"If, sir, you would have the kindness to take wider steps, you would\npreserve your equilibrium better.\"\n\nArrived at the upper ridge of the promontory, I saw a vast white plain\ncovered with morses.  They were playing amongst themselves, and what we\nheard were bellowings of pleasure, not of anger.\n\nAs I passed these curious animals I could examine them leisurely, for\nthey did not move.  Their skins were thick and rugged, of a yellowish\ntint, approaching to red; their hair was short and scant.  Some of them\nwere four yards and a quarter long.  Quieter and less timid than their\ncousins of the north, they did not, like them, place sentinels round\nthe outskirts of their encampment.  After examining this city of\nmorses, I began to think of returning.  It was eleven o'clock, and, if\nCaptain Nemo found the conditions favourable for observations, I wished\nto be present at the operation.  We followed a narrow pathway running\nalong the summit of the steep shore.  At half-past eleven we had\nreached the place where we landed.  The boat had run aground, bringing\nthe Captain.  I saw him standing on a block of basalt, his instruments\nnear him, his eyes fixed on the northern horizon, near which the sun\nwas then describing a lengthened curve.  I took my place beside him,\nand waited without speaking.  Noon arrived, and, as before, the sun did\nnot appear.  It was a fatality.  Observations were still wanting.  If\nnot accomplished to-morrow, we must give up all idea of taking any.  We\nwere indeed exactly at the 20th of March.  To-morrow, the 21st, would\nbe the equinox; the sun would disappear behind the horizon for six\nmonths, and with its disappearance the long polar night would begin.\nSince the September equinox it had emerged from the northern horizon,\nrising by lengthened spirals up to the 21st of December.  At this\nperiod, the summer solstice of the northern regions, it had begun to\ndescend; and to-morrow was to shed its last rays upon them.  I\ncommunicated my fears and observations to Captain Nemo.\n\n\"You are right, M. Aronnax,\" said he; \"if to-morrow I cannot take the\naltitude of the sun, I shall not be able to do it for six months.  But\nprecisely because chance has led me into these seas on the 21st of\nMarch, my bearings will be easy to take, if at twelve we can see the\nsun.\"\n\n\"Why, Captain?\"\n\n\"Because then the orb of day described such lengthened curves that it\nis difficult to measure exactly its height above the horizon, and grave\nerrors may be made with instruments.\"\n\n\"What will you do then?\"\n\n\"I shall only use my chronometer,\" replied Captain Nemo.  \"If\nto-morrow, the 21st of March, the disc of the sun, allowing for\nrefraction, is exactly cut by the northern horizon, it will show that I\nam at the South Pole.\"\n\n\"Just so,\" said I. \"But this statement is not mathematically correct,\nbecause the equinox does not necessarily begin at noon.\"\n\n\"Very likely, sir; but the error will not be a hundred yards and we do\nnot want more.  Till to-morrow, then!\"\n\nCaptain Nemo returned on board.  Conseil and I remained to survey the\nshore, observing and studying until five o'clock. Then I went to bed,\nnot, however, without invoking, like the Indian, the favour of the\nradiant orb.  The next day, the 21st of March, at five in the morning,\nI mounted the platform.  I found Captain Nemo there.\n\n\"The weather is lightening a little,\" said he.  \"I have some hope.\nAfter breakfast we will go on shore and choose a post for observation.\"\n\nThat point settled, I sought Ned Land.  I wanted to take him with me.\nBut the obstinate Canadian refused, and I saw that his taciturnity and\nhis bad humour grew day by day.  After all, I was not sorry for his\nobstinacy under the circumstances.  Indeed, there were too many seals\non shore, and we ought not to lay such temptation in this unreflecting\nfisherman's way.  Breakfast over, we went on shore.  The Nautilus had\ngone some miles further up in the night.  It was a whole league from\nthe coast, above which reared a sharp peak about five hundred yards\nhigh.  The boat took with me Captain Nemo, two men of the crew, and the\ninstruments, which consisted of a chronometer, a telescope, and a\nbarometer.  While crossing, I saw numerous whales belonging to the\nthree kinds peculiar to the southern seas; the whale, or the English\n\"right whale,\" which has no dorsal fin; the \"humpback,\" with reeved\nchest and large, whitish fins, which, in spite of its name, do not form\nwings; and the fin-back, of a yellowish brown, the liveliest of all the\ncetacea.  This powerful creature is heard a long way off when he throws\nto a great height columns of air and vapour, which look like whirlwinds\nof smoke.  These different mammals were disporting themselves in troops\nin the quiet waters; and I could see that this basin of the Antarctic\nPole serves as a place of refuge to the cetacea too closely tracked by\nthe hunters.  I also noticed large medusae floating between the reeds.\n\nAt nine we landed; the sky was brightening, the clouds were flying to\nthe south, and the fog seemed to be leaving the cold surface of the\nwaters.  Captain Nemo went towards the peak, which he doubtless meant\nto be his observatory.  It was a painful ascent over the sharp lava and\nthe pumice-stones, in an atmosphere often impregnated with a sulphurous\nsmell from the smoking cracks.  For a man unaccustomed to walk on land,\nthe Captain climbed the steep slopes with an agility I never saw\nequalled and which a hunter would have envied.  We were two hours\ngetting to the summit of this peak, which was half porphyry and half\nbasalt.  From thence we looked upon a vast sea which, towards the\nnorth, distinctly traced its boundary line upon the sky.  At our feet\nlay fields of dazzling whiteness.  Over our heads a pale azure, free\nfrom fog.  To the north the disc of the sun seemed like a ball of fire,\nalready horned by the cutting of the horizon.  From the bosom of the\nwater rose sheaves of liquid jets by hundreds.  In the distance lay the\nNautilus like a cetacean asleep on the water.  Behind us, to the south\nand east, an immense country and a chaotic heap of rocks and ice, the\nlimits of which were not visible.  On arriving at the summit Captain\nNemo carefully took the mean height of the barometer, for he would have\nto consider that in taking his observations.  At a quarter to twelve\nthe sun, then seen only by refraction, looked like a golden disc\nshedding its last rays upon this deserted continent and seas which\nnever man had yet ploughed.  Captain Nemo, furnished with a lenticular\nglass which, by means of a mirror, corrected the refraction, watched\nthe orb sinking below the horizon by degrees, following a lengthened\ndiagonal.  I held the chronometer.  My heart beat fast.  If the\ndisappearance of the half-disc of the sun coincided with twelve o'clock\non the chronometer, we were at the pole itself.\n\n\"Twelve!\"  I exclaimed.\n\n\"The South Pole!\" replied Captain Nemo, in a grave voice, handing me\nthe glass, which showed the orb cut in exactly equal parts by the\nhorizon.\n\nI looked at the last rays crowning the peak, and the shadows mounting\nby degrees up its slopes.  At that moment Captain Nemo, resting with\nhis hand on my shoulder, said:\n\n\"I, Captain Nemo, on this 21st day of March, 1868, have reached the\nSouth Pole on the ninetieth degree; and I take possession of this part\nof the globe, equal to one-sixth of the known continents.\"\n\n\"In whose name, Captain?\"\n\n\"In my own, sir!\"\n\nSaying which, Captain Nemo unfurled a black banner, bearing an \"N\" in\ngold quartered on its bunting.  Then, turning towards the orb of day,\nwhose last rays lapped the horizon of the sea, he exclaimed:\n\n\"Adieu, sun!  Disappear, thou radiant orb! rest beneath this open sea,\nand let a night of six months spread its shadows over my new domains!\"\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XV\n\nACCIDENT OR INCIDENT?\n\nThe next day, the 22nd of March, at six in the morning, preparations\nfor departure were begun.  The last gleams of twilight were melting\ninto night.  The cold was great, the constellations shone with\nwonderful intensity.  In the zenith glittered that wondrous Southern\nCross--the polar bear of Antarctic regions.  The thermometer showed 120\nbelow zero, and when the wind freshened it was most biting.  Flakes of\nice increased on the open water.  The sea seemed everywhere alike.\nNumerous blackish patches spread on the surface, showing the formation\nof fresh ice.  Evidently the southern basin, frozen during the six\nwinter months, was absolutely inaccessible.  What became of the whales\nin that time?  Doubtless they went beneath the icebergs, seeking more\npracticable seas.  As to the seals and morses, accustomed to live in a\nhard climate, they remained on these icy shores.  These creatures have\nthe instinct to break holes in the ice-field and to keep them open.  To\nthese holes they come for breath; when the birds, driven away by the\ncold, have emigrated to the north, these sea mammals remain sole\nmasters of the polar continent.  But the reservoirs were filling with\nwater, and the Nautilus was slowly descending.  At 1,000 feet deep it\nstopped; its screw beat the waves, and it advanced straight towards the\nnorth at a speed of fifteen miles an hour.  Towards night it was\nalready floating under the immense body of the iceberg.  At three in\nthe morning I was awakened by a violent shock.  I sat up in my bed and\nlistened in the darkness, when I was thrown into the middle of the\nroom.  The Nautilus, after having struck, had rebounded violently.  I\ngroped along the partition, and by the staircase to the saloon, which\nwas lit by the luminous ceiling.  The furniture was upset.  Fortunately\nthe windows were firmly set, and had held fast.  The pictures on the\nstarboard side, from being no longer vertical, were clinging to the\npaper, whilst those of the port side were hanging at least a foot from\nthe wall.  The Nautilus was lying on its starboard side perfectly\nmotionless.  I heard footsteps, and a confusion of voices; but Captain\nNemo did not appear.  As I was leaving the saloon, Ned Land and Conseil\nentered.\n\n\"What is the matter?\" said I, at once.\n\n\"I came to ask you, sir,\" replied Conseil.\n\n\"Confound it!\" exclaimed the Canadian, \"I know well enough!  The\nNautilus has struck; and, judging by the way she lies, I do not think\nshe will right herself as she did the first time in Torres Straits.\"\n\n\"But,\" I asked, \"has she at least come to the surface of the sea?\"\n\n\"We do not know,\" said Conseil.\n\n\"It is easy to decide,\" I answered.  I consulted the manometer.  To my\ngreat surprise, it showed a depth of more than 180 fathoms.  \"What does\nthat mean?\"  I exclaimed.\n\n\"We must ask Captain Nemo,\" said Conseil.\n\n\"But where shall we find him?\" said Ned Land.\n\n\"Follow me,\" said I, to my companions.\n\nWe left the saloon.  There was no one in the library.  At the centre\nstaircase, by the berths of the ship's crew, there was no one.  I\nthought that Captain Nemo must be in the pilot's cage.  It was best to\nwait.  We all returned to the saloon.  For twenty minutes we remained\nthus, trying to hear the slightest noise which might be made on board\nthe Nautilus, when Captain Nemo entered.  He seemed not to see us; his\nface, generally so impassive, showed signs of uneasiness.  He watched\nthe compass silently, then the manometer; and, going to the\nplanisphere, placed his finger on a spot representing the southern\nseas.  I would not interrupt him; but, some minutes later, when he\nturned towards me, I said, using one of his own expressions in the\nTorres Straits:\n\n\"An incident, Captain?\"\n\n\"No, sir; an accident this time.\"\n\n\"Serious?\"\n\n\"Perhaps.\"\n\n\"Is the danger immediate?\"\n\n\"No.\"\n\n\"The Nautilus has stranded?\"\n\n\"Yes.\"\n\n\"And this has happened--how?\"\n\n\"From a caprice of nature, not from the ignorance of man.  Not a\nmistake has been made in the working.  But we cannot prevent\nequilibrium from producing its effects.  We may brave human laws, but\nwe cannot resist natural ones.\"\n\nCaptain Nemo had chosen a strange moment for uttering this\nphilosophical reflection.  On the whole, his answer helped me little.\n\n\"May I ask, sir, the cause of this accident?\"\n\n\"An enormous block of ice, a whole mountain, has turned over,\" he\nreplied.  \"When icebergs are undermined at their base by warmer water\nor reiterated shocks their centre of gravity rises, and the whole thing\nturns over.  This is what has happened; one of these blocks, as it\nfell, struck the Nautilus, then, gliding under its hull, raised it with\nirresistible force, bringing it into beds which are not so thick, where\nit is lying on its side.\"\n\n\"But can we not get the Nautilus off by emptying its reservoirs, that\nit might regain its equilibrium?\"\n\n\"That, sir, is being done at this moment.  You can hear the pump\nworking.  Look at the needle of the manometer; it shows that the\nNautilus is rising, but the block of ice is floating with it; and,\nuntil some obstacle stops its ascending motion, our position cannot be\naltered.\"\n\nIndeed, the Nautilus still held the same position to starboard;\ndoubtless it would right itself when the block stopped.  But at this\nmoment who knows if we may not be frightfully crushed between the two\nglassy surfaces?  I reflected on all the consequences of our position.\nCaptain Nemo never took his eyes off the manometer.  Since the fall of\nthe iceberg, the Nautilus had risen about a hundred and fifty feet, but\nit still made the same angle with the perpendicular.  Suddenly a slight\nmovement was felt in the hold.  Evidently it was righting a little.\nThings hanging in the saloon were sensibly returning to their normal\nposition.  The partitions were nearing the upright.  No one spoke.\nWith beating hearts we watched and felt the straightening.  The boards\nbecame horizontal under our feet.  Ten minutes passed.\n\n\"At last we have righted!\"  I exclaimed.\n\n\"Yes,\" said Captain Nemo, going to the door of the saloon.\n\n\"But are we floating?\"  I asked.\n\n\"Certainly,\" he replied; \"since the reservoirs are not empty; and, when\nempty, the Nautilus must rise to the surface of the sea.\"\n\nWe were in open sea; but at a distance of about ten yards, on either\nside of the Nautilus, rose a dazzling wall of ice.  Above and beneath\nthe same wall.  Above, because the lower surface of the iceberg\nstretched over us like an immense ceiling.  Beneath, because the\noverturned block, having slid by degrees, had found a resting-place on\nthe lateral walls, which kept it in that position.  The Nautilus was\nreally imprisoned in a perfect tunnel of ice more than twenty yards in\nbreadth, filled with quiet water.  It was easy to get out of it by\ngoing either forward or backward, and then make a free passage under\nthe iceberg, some hundreds of yards deeper.  The luminous ceiling had\nbeen extinguished, but the saloon was still resplendent with intense\nlight.  It was the powerful reflection from the glass partition sent\nviolently back to the sheets of the lantern.  I cannot describe the\neffect of the voltaic rays upon the great blocks so capriciously cut;\nupon every angle, every ridge, every facet was thrown a different\nlight, according to the nature of the veins running through the ice; a\ndazzling mine of gems, particularly of sapphires, their blue rays\ncrossing with the green of the emerald.  Here and there were opal\nshades of wonderful softness, running through bright spots like\ndiamonds of fire, the brilliancy of which the eye could not bear.  The\npower of the lantern seemed increased a hundredfold, like a lamp\nthrough the lenticular plates of a first-class lighthouse.\n\n\"How beautiful! how beautiful!\" cried Conseil.\n\n\"Yes,\" I said, \"it is a wonderful sight.  Is it not, Ned?\"\n\n\"Yes, confound it!  Yes,\" answered Ned Land, \"it is superb!  I am mad\nat being obliged to admit it.  No one has ever seen anything like it;\nbut the sight may cost us dear.  And, if I must say all, I think we are\nseeing here things which God never intended man to see.\"\n\nNed was right, it was too beautiful.  Suddenly a cry from Conseil made\nme turn.\n\n\"What is it?\"  I asked.\n\n\"Shut your eyes, sir!  Do not look, sir!\"  Saying which, Conseil\nclapped his hands over his eyes.\n\n\"But what is the matter, my boy?\"\n\n\"I am dazzled, blinded.\"\n\nMy eyes turned involuntarily towards the glass, but I could not stand\nthe fire which seemed to devour them.  I understood what had happened.\nThe Nautilus had put on full speed.  All the quiet lustre of the\nice-walls was at once changed into flashes of lightning.  The fire from\nthese myriads of diamonds was blinding.  It required some time to calm\nour troubled looks.  At last the hands were taken down.\n\n\"Faith, I should never have believed it,\" said Conseil.\n\nIt was then five in the morning; and at that moment a shock was felt at\nthe bows of the Nautilus.  I knew that its spur had struck a block of\nice.  It must have been a false manoeuvre, for this submarine tunnel,\nobstructed by blocks, was not very easy navigation.  I thought that\nCaptain Nemo, by changing his course, would either turn these obstacles\nor else follow the windings of the tunnel.  In any case, the road\nbefore us could not be entirely blocked.  But, contrary to my\nexpectations, the Nautilus took a decided retrograde motion.\n\n\"We are going backwards?\" said Conseil.\n\n\"Yes,\" I replied.  \"This end of the tunnel can have no egress.\"\n\n\"And then?\"\n\n\"Then,\" said I, \"the working is easy.  We must go back again, and go\nout at the southern opening.  That is all.\"\n\nIn speaking thus, I wished to appear more confident than I really was.\nBut the retrograde motion of the Nautilus was increasing; and,\nreversing the screw, it carried us at great speed.\n\n\"It will be a hindrance,\" said Ned.\n\n\"What does it matter, some hours more or less, provided we get out at\nlast?\"\n\n\"Yes,\" repeated Ned Land, \"provided we do get out at last!\"\n\nFor a short time I walked from the saloon to the library.  My\ncompanions were silent.  I soon threw myself on an ottoman, and took a\nbook, which my eyes overran mechanically.  A quarter of an hour after,\nConseil, approaching me, said, \"Is what you are reading very\ninteresting, sir?\"\n\n\"Very interesting!\"  I replied.\n\n\"I should think so, sir.  It is your own book you are reading.\"\n\n\"My book?\"\n\nAnd indeed I was holding in my hand the work on the Great Submarine\nDepths.  I did not even dream of it.  I closed the book and returned to\nmy walk.  Ned and Conseil rose to go.\n\n\"Stay here, my friends,\" said I, detaining them.  \"Let us remain\ntogether until we are out of this block.\"\n\n\"As you please, sir,\" Conseil replied.\n\nSome hours passed.  I often looked at the instruments hanging from the\npartition.  The manometer showed that the Nautilus kept at a constant\ndepth of more than three hundred yards; the compass still pointed to\nsouth; the log indicated a speed of twenty miles an hour, which, in\nsuch a cramped space, was very great.  But Captain Nemo knew that he\ncould not hasten too much, and that minutes were worth ages to us.  At\ntwenty-five minutes past eight a second shock took place, this time\nfrom behind.  I turned pale.  My companions were close by my side.  I\nseized Conseil's hand.  Our looks expressed our feelings better than\nwords.  At this moment the Captain entered the saloon.  I went up to\nhim.\n\n\"Our course is barred southward?\"  I asked.\n\n\"Yes, sir.  The iceberg has shifted and closed every outlet.\"\n\n\"We are blocked up then?\"\n\n\"Yes.\"\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XVI\n\nWANT OF AIR\n\nThus around the Nautilus, above and below, was an impenetrable wall of\nice.  We were prisoners to the iceberg.  I watched the Captain.  His\ncountenance had resumed its habitual imperturbability.\n\n\"Gentlemen,\" he said calmly, \"there are two ways of dying in the\ncircumstances in which we are placed.\"  (This puzzling person had the\nair of a mathematical professor lecturing to his pupils.) \"The first is\nto be crushed; the second is to die of suffocation.  I do not speak of\nthe possibility of dying of hunger, for the supply of provisions in the\nNautilus will certainly last longer than we shall.  Let us, then,\ncalculate our chances.\"\n\n\"As to suffocation, Captain,\" I replied, \"that is not to be feared,\nbecause our reservoirs are full.\"\n\n\"Just so; but they will only yield two days' supply of air.  Now, for\nthirty-six hours we have been hidden under the water, and already the\nheavy atmosphere of the Nautilus requires renewal.  In forty-eight\nhours our reserve will be exhausted.\"\n\n\"Well, Captain, can we be delivered before forty-eight hours?\"\n\n\"We will attempt it, at least, by piercing the wall that surrounds us.\"\n\n\"On which side?\"\n\n\"Sound will tell us.  I am going to run the Nautilus aground on the\nlower bank, and my men will attack the iceberg on the side that is\nleast thick.\"\n\nCaptain Nemo went out.  Soon I discovered by a hissing noise that the\nwater was entering the reservoirs.  The Nautilus sank slowly, and\nrested on the ice at a depth of 350 yards, the depth at which the lower\nbank was immersed.\n\n\"My friends,\" I said, \"our situation is serious, but I rely on your\ncourage and energy.\"\n\n\"Sir,\" replied the Canadian, \"I am ready to do anything for the general\nsafety.\"\n\n\"Good!  Ned,\" and I held out my hand to the Canadian.\n\n\"I will add,\" he continued, \"that, being as handy with the pickaxe as\nwith the harpoon, if I can be useful to the Captain, he can command my\nservices.\"\n\n\"He will not refuse your help.  Come, Ned!\"\n\nI led him to the room where the crew of the Nautilus were putting on\ntheir cork-jackets. I told the Captain of Ned's proposal, which he\naccepted.  The Canadian put on his sea-costume, and was ready as soon\nas his companions.  When Ned was dressed, I re-entered the\ndrawing-room, where the panes of glass were open, and, posted near\nConseil, I examined the ambient beds that supported the Nautilus.  Some\ninstants after, we saw a dozen of the crew set foot on the bank of ice,\nand among them Ned Land, easily known by his stature.  Captain Nemo was\nwith them.  Before proceeding to dig the walls, he took the soundings,\nto be sure of working in the right direction.  Long sounding lines were\nsunk in the side walls, but after fifteen yards they were again stopped\nby the thick wall.  It was useless to attack it on the ceiling-like\nsurface, since the iceberg itself measured more than 400 yards in\nheight.  Captain Nemo then sounded the lower surface.  There ten yards\nof wall separated us from the water, so great was the thickness of the\nice-field. It was necessary, therefore, to cut from it a piece equal in\nextent to the waterline of the Nautilus.  There were about 6,000 cubic\nyards to detach, so as to dig a hole by which we could descend to the\nice-field. The work had begun immediately and carried on with\nindefatigable energy.  Instead of digging round the Nautilus which\nwould have involved greater difficulty, Captain Nemo had an immense\ntrench made at eight yards from the port-quarter. Then the men set to\nwork simultaneously with their screws on several points of its\ncircumference.  Presently the pickaxe attacked this compact matter\nvigorously, and large blocks were detached from the mass.  By a curious\neffect of specific gravity, these blocks, lighter than water, fled, so\nto speak, to the vault of the tunnel, that increased in thickness at\nthe top in proportion as it diminished at the base.  But that mattered\nlittle, so long as the lower part grew thinner.  After two hours' hard\nwork, Ned Land came in exhausted.  He and his comrades were replaced by\nnew workers, whom Conseil and I joined.  The second lieutenant of the\nNautilus superintended us.  The water seemed singularly cold, but I\nsoon got warm handling the pickaxe.  My movements were free enough,\nalthough they were made under a pressure of thirty atmospheres.  When I\nre-entered, after working two hours, to take some food and rest, I\nfound a perceptible difference between the pure fluid with which the\nRouquayrol engine supplied me and the atmosphere of the Nautilus,\nalready charged with carbonic acid.  The air had not been renewed for\nforty-eight hours, and its vivifying qualities were considerably\nenfeebled.  However, after a lapse of twelve hours, we had only raised\na block of ice one yard thick, on the marked surface, which was about\n600 cubic yards!  Reckoning that it took twelve hours to accomplish\nthis much it would take five nights and four days to bring this\nenterprise to a satisfactory conclusion.  Five nights and four days!\nAnd we have only air enough for two days in the reservoirs!  \"Without\ntaking into account,\" said Ned, \"that, even if we get out of this\ninfernal prison, we shall also be imprisoned under the iceberg, shut\nout from all possible communication with the atmosphere.\" True enough!\nWho could then foresee the minimum of time necessary for our\ndeliverance?  We might be suffocated before the Nautilus could regain\nthe surface of the waves?  Was it destined to perish in this ice-tomb,\nwith all those it enclosed?  The situation was terrible.  But everyone\nhad looked the danger in the face, and each was determined to do his\nduty to the last.\n\nAs I expected, during the night a new block a yard square was carried\naway, and still further sank the immense hollow.  But in the morning\nwhen, dressed in my cork-jacket, I traversed the slushy mass at a\ntemperature of six or seven degrees below zero, I remarked that the\nside walls were gradually closing in.  The beds of water farthest from\nthe trench, that were not warmed by the men's work, showed a tendency\nto solidification.  In presence of this new and imminent danger, what\nwould become of our chances of safety, and how hinder the\nsolidification of this liquid medium, that would burst the partitions\nof the Nautilus like glass?\n\nI did not tell my companions of this new danger.  What was the good of\ndamping the energy they displayed in the painful work of escape?  But\nwhen I went on board again, I told Captain Nemo of this grave\ncomplication.\n\n\"I know it,\" he said, in that calm tone which could counteract the most\nterrible apprehensions.  \"It is one danger more; but I see no way of\nescaping it; the only chance of safety is to go quicker than\nsolidification.  We must be beforehand with it, that is all.\"\n\nOn this day for several hours I used my pickaxe vigorously.  The work\nkept me up.  Besides, to work was to quit the Nautilus, and breathe\ndirectly the pure air drawn from the reservoirs, and supplied by our\napparatus, and to quit the impoverished and vitiated atmosphere.\nTowards evening the trench was dug one yard deeper.  When I returned on\nboard, I was nearly suffocated by the carbonic acid with which the air\nwas filled--ah! if we had only the chemical means to drive away this\ndeleterious gas.  We had plenty of oxygen; all this water contained a\nconsiderable quantity, and by dissolving it with our powerful piles, it\nwould restore the vivifying fluid.  I had thought well over it; but of\nwhat good was that, since the carbonic acid produced by our respiration\nhad invaded every part of the vessel?  To absorb it, it was necessary\nto fill some jars with caustic potash, and to shake them incessantly.\nNow this substance was wanting on board, and nothing could replace it.\nOn that evening, Captain Nemo ought to open the taps of his reservoirs,\nand let some pure air into the interior of the Nautilus; without this\nprecaution we could not get rid of the sense of suffocation.  The next\nday, March 26th, I resumed my miner's work in beginning the fifth yard.\nThe side walls and the lower surface of the iceberg thickened visibly.\nIt was evident that they would meet before the Nautilus was able to\ndisengage itself.  Despair seized me for an instant; my pickaxe nearly\nfell from my hands.  What was the good of digging if I must be\nsuffocated, crushed by the water that was turning into stone?--a\npunishment that the ferocity of the savages even would not have\ninvented!  Just then Captain Nemo passed near me.  I touched his hand\nand showed him the walls of our prison.  The wall to port had advanced\nto at least four yards from the hull of the Nautilus.  The Captain\nunderstood me, and signed me to follow him.  We went on board.  I took\noff my cork-jacket and accompanied him into the drawing-room.\n\n\"M. Aronnax, we must attempt some desperate means, or we shall be\nsealed up in this solidified water as in cement.\"\n\n\"Yes; but what is to be done?\"\n\n\"Ah! if my Nautilus were strong enough to bear this pressure without\nbeing crushed!\"\n\n\"Well?\"  I asked, not catching the Captain's idea.\n\n\"Do you not understand,\" he replied, \"that this congelation of water\nwill help us?  Do you not see that by its solidification, it would\nburst through this field of ice that imprisons us, as, when it freezes,\nit bursts the hardest stones?  Do you not perceive that it would be an\nagent of safety instead of destruction?\"\n\n\"Yes, Captain, perhaps.  But, whatever resistance to crushing the\nNautilus possesses, it could not support this terrible pressure, and\nwould be flattened like an iron plate.\"\n\n\"I know it, sir.  Therefore we must not reckon on the aid of nature,\nbut on our own exertions.  We must stop this solidification.  Not only\nwill the side walls be pressed together; but there is not ten feet of\nwater before or behind the Nautilus.  The congelation gains on us on\nall sides.\"\n\n\"How long will the air in the reservoirs last for us to breathe on\nboard?\"\n\nThe Captain looked in my face.  \"After to-morrow they will be empty!\"\n\nA cold sweat came over me.  However, ought I to have been astonished at\nthe answer?  On March 22, the Nautilus was in the open polar seas.  We\nwere at 26°. For five days we had lived on the reserve on board.\nAnd what was left of the respirable air must be kept for the workers.\nEven now, as I write, my recollection is still so vivid that an\ninvoluntary terror seizes me and my lungs seem to be without air.\nMeanwhile, Captain Nemo reflected silently, and evidently an idea had\nstruck him; but he seemed to reject it.  At last, these words escaped\nhis lips:\n\n\"Boiling water!\" he muttered.\n\n\"Boiling water?\"  I cried.\n\n\"Yes, sir.  We are enclosed in a space that is relatively confined.\nWould not jets of boiling water, constantly injected by the pumps,\nraise the temperature in this part and stay the congelation?\"\n\n\"Let us try it,\" I said resolutely.\n\n\"Let us try it, Professor.\"\n\nThe thermometer then stood at 7° outside.  Captain Nemo took me to\nthe galleys, where the vast distillatory machines stood that furnished\nthe drinkable water by evaporation.  They filled these with water, and\nall the electric heat from the piles was thrown through the worms\nbathed in the liquid.  In a few minutes this water reached 100°. It\nwas directed towards the pumps, while fresh water replaced it in\nproportion.  The heat developed by the troughs was such that cold\nwater, drawn up from the sea after only having gone through the\nmachines, came boiling into the body of the pump.  The injection was\nbegun, and three hours after the thermometer marked 6° below zero\noutside.  One degree was gained.  Two hours later the thermometer only\nmarked 4°.\n\n\"We shall succeed,\" I said to the Captain, after having anxiously\nwatched the result of the operation.\n\n\"I think,\" he answered, \"that we shall not be crushed.  We have no more\nsuffocation to fear.\"\n\nDuring the night the temperature of the water rose to 1° below\nzero.  The injections could not carry it to a higher point.  But, as\nthe congelation of the sea-water produces at least 2°, I was at\nleast reassured against the dangers of solidification.\n\nThe next day, March 27th, six yards of ice had been cleared, twelve\nfeet only remaining to be cleared away.  There was yet forty-eight\nhours' work.  The air could not be renewed in the interior of the\nNautilus.  And this day would make it worse.  An intolerable weight\noppressed me.  Towards three o'clock in the evening this feeling rose\nto a violent degree.  Yawns dislocated my jaws.  My lungs panted as\nthey inhaled this burning fluid, which became rarefied more and more.\nA moral torpor took hold of me.  I was powerless, almost unconscious.\nMy brave Conseil, though exhibiting the same symptoms and suffering in\nthe same manner, never left me.  He took my hand and encouraged me, and\nI heard him murmur, \"Oh! if I could only not breathe, so as to leave\nmore air for my master!\"\n\nTears came into my eyes on hearing him speak thus.  If our situation to\nall was intolerable in the interior, with what haste and gladness would\nwe put on our cork-jackets to work in our turn!  Pickaxes sounded on\nthe frozen ice-beds. Our arms ached, the skin was torn off our hands.\nBut what were these fatigues, what did the wounds matter?  Vital air\ncame to the lungs!  We breathed! we breathed!\n\nAll this time no one prolonged his voluntary task beyond the prescribed\ntime.  His task accomplished, each one handed in turn to his panting\ncompanions the apparatus that supplied him with life.  Captain Nemo set\nthe example, and submitted first to this severe discipline.  When the\ntime came, he gave up his apparatus to another and returned to the\nvitiated air on board, calm, unflinching, unmurmuring.\n\nOn that day the ordinary work was accomplished with unusual vigour.\nOnly two yards remained to be raised from the surface.  Two yards only\nseparated us from the open sea.  But the reservoirs were nearly emptied\nof air.  The little that remained ought to be kept for the workers; not\na particle for the Nautilus.  When I went back on board, I was half\nsuffocated.  What a night!  I know not how to describe it.  The next\nday my breathing was oppressed.  Dizziness accompanied the pain in my\nhead and made me like a drunken man.  My companions showed the same\nsymptoms.  Some of the crew had rattling in the throat.\n\nOn that day, the sixth of our imprisonment, Captain Nemo, finding the\npickaxes work too slowly, resolved to crush the ice-bed that still\nseparated us from the liquid sheet.  This man's coolness and energy\nnever forsook him.  He subdued his physical pains by moral force.\n\nBy his orders the vessel was lightened, that is to say, raised from the\nice-bed by a change of specific gravity.  When it floated they towed it\nso as to bring it above the immense trench made on the level of the\nwater-line. Then, filling his reservoirs of water, he descended and\nshut himself up in the hole.\n\nJust then all the crew came on board, and the double door of\ncommunication was shut.  The Nautilus then rested on the bed of ice,\nwhich was not one yard thick, and which the sounding leads had\nperforated in a thousand places.  The taps of the reservoirs were then\nopened, and a hundred cubic yards of water was let in, increasing the\nweight of the Nautilus to 1,800 tons.  We waited, we listened,\nforgetting our sufferings in hope.  Our safety depended on this last\nchance.  Notwithstanding the buzzing in my head, I soon heard the\nhumming sound under the hull of the Nautilus.  The ice cracked with a\nsingular noise, like tearing paper, and the Nautilus sank.\n\n\"We are off!\" murmured Conseil in my ear.\n\nI could not answer him.  I seized his hand, and pressed it\nconvulsively.  All at once, carried away by its frightful overcharge,\nthe Nautilus sank like a bullet under the waters, that is to say, it\nfell as if it was in a vacuum.  Then all the electric force was put on\nthe pumps, that soon began to let the water out of the reservoirs.\nAfter some minutes, our fall was stopped.  Soon, too, the manometer\nindicated an ascending movement.  The screw, going at full speed, made\nthe iron hull tremble to its very bolts and drew us towards the north.\nBut if this floating under the iceberg is to last another day before we\nreach the open sea, I shall be dead first.\n\nHalf stretched upon a divan in the library, I was suffocating.  My face\nwas purple, my lips blue, my faculties suspended.  I neither saw nor\nheard.  All notion of time had gone from my mind.  My muscles could not\ncontract.  I do not know how many hours passed thus, but I was\nconscious of the agony that was coming over me.  I felt as if I was\ngoing to die.  Suddenly I came to.  Some breaths of air penetrated my\nlungs.  Had we risen to the surface of the waves?  Were we free of the\niceberg?  No!  Ned and Conseil, my two brave friends, were sacrificing\nthemselves to save me.  Some particles of air still remained at the\nbottom of one apparatus.  Instead of using it, they had kept it for me,\nand, while they were being suffocated, they gave me life, drop by drop.\nI wanted to push back the thing; they held my hands, and for some\nmoments I breathed freely.  I looked at the clock; it was eleven in the\nmorning.  It ought to be the 28th of March.  The Nautilus went at a\nfrightful pace, forty miles an hour.  It literally tore through the\nwater.  Where was Captain Nemo?  Had he succumbed?  Were his companions\ndead with him?  At the moment the manometer indicated that we were not\nmore than twenty feet from the surface.  A mere plate of ice separated\nus from the atmosphere.  Could we not break it?  Perhaps.  In any case\nthe Nautilus was going to attempt it.  I felt that it was in an oblique\nposition, lowering the stern, and raising the bows.  The introduction\nof water had been the means of disturbing its equilibrium.  Then,\nimpelled by its powerful screw, it attacked the ice-field from beneath\nlike a formidable battering-ram.  It broke it by backing and then\nrushing forward against the field, which gradually gave way; and at\nlast, dashing suddenly against it, shot forwards on the ice-field, that\ncrushed beneath its weight.  The panel was opened--one might say torn\noff--and the pure air came in in abundance to all parts of the Nautilus.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XVII\n\nFROM CAPE HORN TO THE AMAZON\n\nHow I got on to the platform, I have no idea; perhaps the Canadian had\ncarried me there.  But I breathed, I inhaled the vivifying sea-air.  My\ntwo companions were getting drunk with the fresh particles.  The other\nunhappy men had been so long without food, that they could not with\nimpunity indulge in the simplest aliments that were given them.  We, on\nthe contrary, had no end to restrain ourselves; we could draw this air\nfreely into our lungs, and it was the breeze, the breeze alone, that\nfilled us with this keen enjoyment.\n\n\"Ah!\" said Conseil, \"how delightful this oxygen is!  Master need not\nfear to breathe it.  There is enough for everybody.\"\n\nNed Land did not speak, but he opened his jaws wide enough to frighten\na shark.  Our strength soon returned, and, when I looked round me, I\nsaw we were alone on the platform.  The foreign seamen in the Nautilus\nwere contented with the air that circulated in the interior; none of\nthem had come to drink in the open air.\n\nThe first words I spoke were words of gratitude and thankfulness to my\ntwo companions.  Ned and Conseil had prolonged my life during the last\nhours of this long agony.  All my gratitude could not repay such\ndevotion.\n\n\"My friends,\" said I, \"we are bound one to the other for ever, and I am\nunder infinite obligations to you.\"\n\n\"Which I shall take advantage of,\" exclaimed the Canadian.\n\n\"What do you mean?\" said Conseil.\n\n\"I mean that I shall take you with me when I leave this infernal\nNautilus.\"\n\n\"Well,\" said Conseil, \"after all this, are we going right?\"\n\n\"Yes,\" I replied, \"for we are going the way of the sun, and here the\nsun is in the north.\"\n\n\"No doubt,\" said Ned Land; \"but it remains to be seen whether he will\nbring the ship into the Pacific or the Atlantic Ocean, that is, into\nfrequented or deserted seas.\"\n\nI could not answer that question, and I feared that Captain Nemo would\nrather take us to the vast ocean that touches the coasts of Asia and\nAmerica at the same time.  He would thus complete the tour round the\nsubmarine world, and return to those waters in which the Nautilus could\nsail freely.  We ought, before long, to settle this important point.\nThe Nautilus went at a rapid pace.  The polar circle was soon passed,\nand the course shaped for Cape Horn.  We were off the American point,\nMarch 31st, at seven o'clock in the evening.  Then all our past\nsufferings were forgotten.  The remembrance of that imprisonment in the\nice was effaced from our minds.  We only thought of the future.\nCaptain Nemo did not appear again either in the drawing-room or on the\nplatform.  The point shown each day on the planisphere, and, marked by\nthe lieutenant, showed me the exact direction of the Nautilus.  Now, on\nthat evening, it was evident, to, my great satisfaction, that we were\ngoing back to the North by the Atlantic.  The next day, April 1st, when\nthe Nautilus ascended to the surface some minutes before noon, we\nsighted land to the west.  It was Terra del Fuego, which the first\nnavigators named thus from seeing the quantity of smoke that rose from\nthe natives' huts.  The coast seemed low to me, but in the distance\nrose high mountains.  I even thought I had a glimpse of Mount\nSarmiento, that rises 2,070 yards above the level of the sea, with a\nvery pointed summit, which, according as it is misty or clear, is a\nsign of fine or of wet weather.  At this moment the peak was clearly\ndefined against the sky.  The Nautilus, diving again under the water,\napproached the coast, which was only some few miles off.  From the\nglass windows in the drawing-room, I saw long seaweeds and gigantic\nfuci and varech, of which the open polar sea contains so many\nspecimens, with their sharp polished filaments; they measured about 300\nyards in length--real cables, thicker than one's thumb; and, having\ngreat tenacity, they are often used as ropes for vessels.  Another weed\nknown as velp, with leaves four feet long, buried in the coral\nconcretions, hung at the bottom.  It served as nest and food for\nmyriads of crustacea and molluscs, crabs, and cuttlefish.  There seals\nand otters had splendid repasts, eating the flesh of fish with\nsea-vegetables, according to the English fashion.  Over this fertile\nand luxuriant ground the Nautilus passed with great rapidity.  Towards\nevening it approached the Falkland group, the rough summits of which I\nrecognised the following day.  The depth of the sea was moderate.  On\nthe shores our nets brought in beautiful specimens of sea weed, and\nparticularly a certain fucus, the roots of which were filled with the\nbest mussels in the world.  Geese and ducks fell by dozens on the\nplatform, and soon took their places in the pantry on board.\n\nWhen the last heights of the Falklands had disappeared from the\nhorizon, the Nautilus sank to between twenty and twenty-five yards, and\nfollowed the American coast.  Captain Nemo did not show himself.  Until\nthe 3rd of April we did not quit the shores of Patagonia, sometimes\nunder the ocean, sometimes at the surface.  The Nautilus passed beyond\nthe large estuary formed by the Uraguay.  Its direction was northwards,\nand followed the long windings of the coast of South America.  We had\nthen made 1,600 miles since our embarkation in the seas of Japan.\nAbout eleven o'clock in the morning the Tropic of Capricorn was crossed\non the thirty-seventh meridian, and we passed Cape Frio standing out to\nsea.  Captain Nemo, to Ned Land's great displeasure, did not like the\nneighbourhood of the inhabited coasts of Brazil, for we went at a giddy\nspeed.  Not a fish, not a bird of the swiftest kind could follow us,\nand the natural curiosities of these seas escaped all observation.\n\nThis speed was kept up for several days, and in the evening of the 9th\nof April we sighted the most westerly point of South America that forms\nCape San Roque.  But then the Nautilus swerved again, and sought the\nlowest depth of a submarine valley which is between this Cape and\nSierra Leone on the African coast.  This valley bifurcates to the\nparallel of the Antilles, and terminates at the mouth by the enormous\ndepression of 9,000 yards.  In this place, the geological basin of the\nocean forms, as far as the Lesser Antilles, a cliff to three and a half\nmiles perpendicular in height, and, at the parallel of the Cape Verde\nIslands, an other wall not less considerable, that encloses thus all\nthe sunk continent of the Atlantic.  The bottom of this immense valley\nis dotted with some mountains, that give to these submarine places a\npicturesque aspect.  I speak, moreover, from the manuscript charts that\nwere in the library of the Nautilus--charts evidently due to Captain\nNemo's hand, and made after his personal observations.  For two days\nthe desert and deep waters were visited by means of the inclined\nplanes.  The Nautilus was furnished with long diagonal broadsides which\ncarried it to all elevations.  But on the 11th of April it rose\nsuddenly, and land appeared at the mouth of the Amazon River, a vast\nestuary, the embouchure of which is so considerable that it freshens\nthe sea-water for the distance of several leagues.\n\nThe equator was crossed. Twenty miles to the west were the Guianas, a\nFrench territory, on which we could have found an easy refuge; but a\nstiff breeze was blowing, and the furious waves would not have allowed\na single boat to face them. Ned Land understood that, no doubt, for he\nspoke not a word about it. For my part, I made no allusion to his\nschemes of flight, for I would not urge him to make an attempt that\nmust inevitably fail. I made the time pass pleasantly by interesting\nstudies.  During the days of April 11th and 12th, the Nautilus did not\nleave the surface of the sea, and the net brought in a marvellous haul\nof Zoophytes, fish and reptiles. Some zoophytes had been fished up by\nthe chain of the nets; they were for the most part beautiful\nphyctallines, belonging to the actinidian family, and among other\nspecies the phyctalis protexta, peculiar to that part of the ocean,\nwith a little cylindrical trunk, ornamented With vertical lines,\nspeckled with red dots, crowning a marvellous blossoming of tentacles.\nAs to the molluscs, they consisted of some I had already\nobserved--turritellas, olive porphyras, with regular lines\nintercrossed, with red spots standing out plainly against the flesh;\nodd pteroceras, like petrified scorpions; translucid hyaleas,\nargonauts, cuttle-fish (excellent eating), and certain species of\ncalmars that naturalists of antiquity have classed amongst the\nflying-fish, and that serve principally for bait for cod-fishing. I had\nnow an opportunity of studying several species of fish on these shores.\nAmongst the cartilaginous ones, petromyzons-pricka, a sort of eel,\nfifteen inches long, with a greenish head, violet fins, grey-blue back,\nbrown belly, silvered and sown with bright spots, the pupil of the eye\nencircled with gold--a curious animal, that the current of the Amazon\nhad drawn to the sea, for they inhabit fresh waters--tuberculated\nstreaks, with pointed snouts, and a long loose tail, armed with a long\njagged sting; little sharks, a yard long, grey and whitish skin, and\nseveral rows of teeth, bent back, that are generally known by the name\nof pantouffles; vespertilios, a kind of red isosceles triangle, half a\nyard long, to which pectorals are attached by fleshy prolongations that\nmake them look like bats, but that their horny appendage, situated near\nthe nostrils, has given them the name of sea-unicorns; lastly, some\nspecies of balistae, the curassavian, whose spots were of a brilliant\ngold colour, and the capriscus of clear violet, and with varying shades\nlike a pigeon's throat.\n\nI end here this catalogue, which is somewhat dry perhaps, but very\nexact, with a series of bony fish that I observed in passing belonging\nto the apteronotes, and whose snout is white as snow, the body of a\nbeautiful black, marked with a very long loose fleshy strip;\nodontognathes, armed with spikes; sardines nine inches long, glittering\nwith a bright silver light; a species of mackerel provided with two\nanal fins; centronotes of a blackish tint, that are fished for with\ntorches, long fish, two yards in length, with fat flesh, white and\nfirm, which, when they arc fresh, taste like eel, and when dry, like\nsmoked salmon; labres, half red, covered with scales only at the bottom\nof the dorsal and anal fins; chrysoptera, on which gold and silver\nblend their brightness with that of the ruby and topaz; golden-tailed\nspares, the flesh of which is extremely delicate, and whose\nphosphorescent properties betray them in the midst of the waters;\norange-coloured spares with long tongues; maigres, with gold caudal\nfins, dark thorn-tails, anableps of Surinam, etc.\n\nNotwithstanding this \"et cetera,\" I must not omit to mention fish that\nConseil will long remember, and with good reason. One of our nets had\nhauled up a sort of very flat ray fish, which, with the tail cut off,\nformed a perfect disc, and weighed twenty ounces. It was white\nunderneath, red above, with large round spots of dark blue encircled\nwith black, very glossy skin, terminating in a bilobed fin. Laid out on\nthe platform, it struggled, tried to turn itself by convulsive\nmovements, and made so many efforts, that one last turn had nearly sent\nit into the sea. But Conseil, not wishing to let the fish go, rushed to\nit, and, before I could prevent him, had seized it with both hands. In\na moment he was overthrown, his legs in the air, and half his body\nparalysed, crying--\n\n\"Oh! master, master! help me!\"\n\nIt was the first time the poor boy had spoken to me so familiarly.  The\nCanadian and I took him up, and rubbed his contracted arms till he\nbecame sensible. The unfortunate Conseil had attacked a cramp-fish of\nthe most dangerous kind, the cumana. This odd animal, in a medium\nconductor like water, strikes fish at several yards' distance, so great\nis the power of its electric organ, the two principal surfaces of which\ndo not measure less than twenty-seven square feet. The next day, April\n12th, the Nautilus approached the Dutch coast, near the mouth of the\nMaroni. There several groups of sea-cows herded together; they were\nmanatees, that, like the dugong and the stellera, belong to the skenian\norder. These beautiful animals, peaceable and inoffensive, from\neighteen to twenty-one feet in length, weigh at least sixteen\nhundredweight. I told Ned Land and Conseil that provident nature had\nassigned an important role to these mammalia. Indeed, they, like the\nseals, are designed to graze on the submarine prairies, and thus\ndestroy the accumulation of weed that obstructs the tropical rivers.\n\n\"And do you know,\" I added, \"what has been the result since men have\nalmost entirely annihilated this useful race? That the putrefied weeds\nhave poisoned the air, and the poisoned air causes the yellow fever,\nthat desolates these beautiful countries. Enormous vegetations are\nmultiplied under the torrid seas, and the evil is irresistibly\ndeveloped from the mouth of the Rio de la Plata to Florida. If we are\nto believe Toussenel, this plague is nothing to what it would be if the\nseas were cleaned of whales and seals. Then, infested with poulps,\nmedusae, and cuttle-fish, they would become immense centres of\ninfection, since their waves would not possess 'these vast stomachs\nthat God had charged to infest the surface of the seas.'\"\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XVIII\n\nTHE POULPS\n\nFor several days the Nautilus kept off from the American coast.\nEvidently it did not wish to risk the tides of the Gulf of Mexico or of\nthe sea of the Antilles.  April 16th, we sighted Martinique and\nGuadaloupe from a distance of about thirty miles.  I saw their tall\npeaks for an instant.  The Canadian, who counted on carrying out his\nprojects in the Gulf, by either landing or hailing one of the numerous\nboats that coast from one island to another, was quite disheartened.\nFlight would have been quite practicable, if Ned Land had been able to\ntake possession of the boat without the Captain's knowledge.  But in\nthe open sea it could not be thought of.  The Canadian, Conseil, and I\nhad a long conversation on this subject.  For six months we had been\nprisoners on board the Nautilus.  We had travelled 17,000 leagues; and,\nas Ned Land said, there was no reason why it should come to an end.  We\ncould hope nothing from the Captain of the Nautilus, but only from\nourselves.  Besides, for some time past he had become graver, more\nretired, less sociable.  He seemed to shun me.  I met him rarely.\nFormerly he was pleased to explain the submarine marvels to me; now he\nleft me to my studies, and came no more to the saloon.  What change had\ncome over him?  For what cause?  For my part, I did not wish to bury\nwith me my curious and novel studies.  I had now the power to write the\ntrue book of the sea; and this book, sooner or later, I wished to see\ndaylight.  The land nearest us was the archipelago of the Bahamas.\nThere rose high submarine cliffs covered with large weeds.  It was\nabout eleven o'clock when Ned Land drew my attention to a formidable\npricking, like the sting of an ant, which was produced by means of\nlarge seaweeds.\n\n\"Well,\" I said, \"these are proper caverns for poulps, and I should not\nbe astonished to see some of these monsters.\"\n\n\"What!\" said Conseil; \"cuttlefish, real cuttlefish of the cephalopod\nclass?\"\n\n\"No,\" I said, \"poulps of huge dimensions.\"\n\n\"I will never believe that such animals exist,\" said Ned.\n\n\"Well,\" said Conseil, with the most serious air in the world, \"I\nremember perfectly to have seen a large vessel drawn under the waves by\nan octopus's arm.\"\n\n\"You saw that?\" said the Canadian.\n\n\"Yes, Ned.\"\n\n\"With your own eyes?\"\n\n\"With my own eyes.\"\n\n\"Where, pray, might that be?\"\n\n\"At St. Malo,\" answered Conseil.\n\n\"In the port?\" said Ned, ironically.\n\n\"No; in a church,\" replied Conseil.\n\n\"In a church!\" cried the Canadian.\n\n\"Yes; friend Ned.  In a picture representing the poulp in question.\"\n\n\"Good!\" said Ned Land, bursting out laughing.\n\n\"He is quite right,\" I said.  \"I have heard of this picture; but the\nsubject represented is taken from a legend, and you know what to think\nof legends in the matter of natural history.  Besides, when it is a\nquestion of monsters, the imagination is apt to run wild.  Not only is\nit supposed that these poulps can draw down vessels, but a certain\nOlaus Magnus speaks of an octopus a mile long that is more like an\nisland than an animal.  It is also said that the Bishop of Nidros was\nbuilding an altar on an immense rock.  Mass finished, the rock began to\nwalk, and returned to the sea.  The rock was a poulp.  Another Bishop,\nPontoppidan, speaks also of a poulp on which a regiment of cavalry\ncould manoeuvre.  Lastly, the ancient naturalists speak of monsters\nwhose mouths were like gulfs, and which were too large to pass through\nthe Straits of Gibraltar.\"\n\n\"But how much is true of these stories?\" asked Conseil.\n\n\"Nothing, my friends; at least of that which passes the limit of truth\nto get to fable or legend.  Nevertheless, there must be some ground for\nthe imagination of the story-tellers. One cannot deny that poulps and\ncuttlefish exist of a large species, inferior, however, to the\ncetaceans.  Aristotle has stated the dimensions of a cuttlefish as five\ncubits, or nine feet two inches.  Our fishermen frequently see some\nthat are more than four feet long.  Some skeletons of poulps are\npreserved in the museums of Trieste and Montpelier, that measure two\nyards in length.  Besides, according to the calculations of some\nnaturalists, one of these animals only six feet long would have\ntentacles twenty-seven feet long.  That would suffice to make a\nformidable monster.\"\n\n\"Do they fish for them in these days?\" asked Ned.\n\n\"If they do not fish for them, sailors see them at least.  One of my\nfriends, Captain Paul Bos of Havre, has often affirmed that he met one\nof these monsters of colossal dimensions in the Indian seas.  But the\nmost astonishing fact, and which does not permit of the denial of the\nexistence of these gigantic animals, happened some years ago, in 1861.\"\n\n\"What is the fact?\" asked Ned Land.\n\n\"This is it.  In 1861, to the north-east of Teneriffe, very nearly in\nthe same latitude we are in now, the crew of the despatch-boat Alector\nperceived a monstrous cuttlefish swimming in the waters.  Captain\nBouguer went near to the animal, and attacked it with harpoon and guns,\nwithout much success, for balls and harpoons glided over the soft\nflesh.  After several fruitless attempts the crew tried to pass a\nslip-knot round the body of the mollusc.  The noose slipped as far as\nthe tail fins and there stopped.  They tried then to haul it on board,\nbut its weight was so considerable that the tightness of the cord\nseparated the tail from the body, and, deprived of this ornament, he\ndisappeared under the water.\"\n\n\"Indeed! is that a fact?\"\n\n\"An indisputable fact, my good Ned.  They proposed to name this poulp\n`Bouguer's cuttlefish.'\"\n\n\"What length was it?\" asked the Canadian.\n\n\"Did it not measure about six yards?\" said Conseil, who, posted at the\nwindow, was examining again the irregular windings of the cliff.\n\n\"Precisely,\" I replied.\n\n\"Its head,\" rejoined Conseil, \"was it not crowned with eight tentacles,\nthat beat the water like a nest of serpents?\"\n\n\"Precisely.\"\n\n\"Had not its eyes, placed at the back of its head, considerable\ndevelopment?\"\n\n\"Yes, Conseil.\"\n\n\"And was not its mouth like a parrot's beak?\"\n\n\"Exactly, Conseil.\"\n\n\"Very well! no offence to master,\" he replied, quietly; \"if this is not\nBouguer's cuttlefish, it is, at least, one of its brothers.\"\n\nI looked at Conseil.  Ned Land hurried to the window.\n\n\"What a horrible beast!\" he cried.\n\nI looked in my turn, and could not repress a gesture of disgust.\nBefore my eyes was a horrible monster worthy to figure in the legends\nof the marvellous.  It was an immense cuttlefish, being eight yards\nlong.  It swam crossways in the direction of the Nautilus with great\nspeed, watching us with its enormous staring green eyes.  Its eight\narms, or rather feet, fixed to its head, that have given the name of\ncephalopod to these animals, were twice as long as its body, and were\ntwisted like the furies' hair.  One could see the 250 air holes on the\ninner side of the tentacles.  The monster's mouth, a horned beak like a\nparrot's, opened and shut vertically.  Its tongue, a horned substance,\nfurnished with several rows of pointed teeth, came out quivering from\nthis veritable pair of shears.  What a freak of nature, a bird's beak\non a mollusc!  Its spindle-like body formed a fleshy mass that might\nweigh 4,000 to 5,000 lb.; the, varying colour changing with great\nrapidity, according to the irritation of the animal, passed\nsuccessively from livid grey to reddish brown.  What irritated this\nmollusc?  No doubt the presence of the Nautilus, more formidable than\nitself, and on which its suckers or its jaws had no hold.  Yet, what\nmonsters these poulps are! what vitality the Creator has given them!\nwhat vigour in their movements! and they possess three hearts!  Chance\nhad brought us in presence of this cuttlefish, and I did not wish to\nlose the opportunity of carefully studying this specimen of\ncephalopods.  I overcame the horror that inspired me, and, taking a\npencil, began to draw it.\n\n\"Perhaps this is the same which the Alector saw,\" said Conseil.\n\n\"No,\" replied the Canadian; \"for this is whole, and the other had lost\nits tail.\"\n\n\"That is no reason,\" I replied.  \"The arms and tails of these animals\nare re-formed by renewal; and in seven years the tail of Bouguer's\ncuttlefish has no doubt had time to grow.\"\n\nBy this time other poulps appeared at the port light.  I counted seven.\nThey formed a procession after the Nautilus, and I heard their beaks\ngnashing against the iron hull.  I continued my work.  These monsters\nkept in the water with such precision that they seemed immovable.\nSuddenly the Nautilus stopped.  A shock made it tremble in every plate.\n\n\"Have we struck anything?\"  I asked.\n\n\"In any case,\" replied the Canadian, \"we shall be free, for we are\nfloating.\"\n\nThe Nautilus was floating, no doubt, but it did not move.  A minute\npassed.  Captain Nemo, followed by his lieutenant, entered the\ndrawing-room. I had not seen him for some time.  He seemed dull.\nWithout noticing or speaking to us, he went to the panel, looked at the\npoulps, and said something to his lieutenant.  The latter went out.\nSoon the panels were shut.  The ceiling was lighted.  I went towards\nthe Captain.\n\n\"A curious collection of poulps?\"  I said.\n\n\"Yes, indeed, Mr. Naturalist,\" he replied; \"and we are going to fight\nthem, man to beast.\"\n\nI looked at him.  I thought I had not heard aright.\n\n\"Man to beast?\"  I repeated.\n\n\"Yes, sir.  The screw is stopped.  I think that the horny jaws of one\nof the cuttlefish is entangled in the blades.  That is what prevents\nour moving.\"\n\n\"What are you going to do?\"\n\n\"Rise to the surface, and slaughter this vermin.\"\n\n\"A difficult enterprise.\"\n\n\"Yes, indeed.  The electric bullets are powerless against the soft\nflesh, where they do not find resistance enough to go off.  But we\nshall attack them with the hatchet.\"\n\n\"And the harpoon, sir,\" said the Canadian, \"if you do not refuse my\nhelp.\"\n\n\"I will accept it, Master Land.\"\n\n\"We will follow you,\" I said, and, following Captain Nemo, we went\ntowards the central staircase.\n\nThere, about ten men with boarding-hatchets were ready for the attack.\nConseil and I took two hatchets; Ned Land seized a harpoon.  The\nNautilus had then risen to the surface.  One of the sailors, posted on\nthe top ladderstep, unscrewed the bolts of the panels.  But hardly were\nthe screws loosed, when the panel rose with great violence, evidently\ndrawn by the suckers of a poulp's arm.  Immediately one of these arms\nslid like a serpent down the opening and twenty others were above.\nWith one blow of the axe, Captain Nemo cut this formidable tentacle,\nthat slid wriggling down the ladder.  Just as we were pressing one on\nthe other to reach the platform, two other arms, lashing the air, came\ndown on the seaman placed before Captain Nemo, and lifted him up with\nirresistible power.  Captain Nemo uttered a cry, and rushed out.  We\nhurried after him.\n\nWhat a scene!  The unhappy man, seized by the tentacle and fixed to the\nsuckers, was balanced in the air at the caprice of this enormous trunk.\nHe rattled in his throat, he was stifled, he cried, \"Help! help!\"\nThese words, spoken in French, startled me!  I had a fellow-countryman\non board, perhaps several!  That heart-rending cry!  I shall hear it\nall my life.  The unfortunate man was lost.  Who could rescue him from\nthat powerful pressure?  However, Captain Nemo had rushed to the poulp,\nand with one blow of the axe had cut through one arm.  His lieutenant\nstruggled furiously against other monsters that crept on the flanks of\nthe Nautilus.  The crew fought with their axes.  The Canadian, Conseil,\nand I buried our weapons in the fleshy masses; a strong smell of musk\npenetrated the atmosphere.  It was horrible!\n\nFor one instant, I thought the unhappy man, entangled with the poulp,\nwould be torn from its powerful suction.  Seven of the eight arms had\nbeen cut off.  One only wriggled in the air, brandishing the victim\nlike a feather.  But just as Captain Nemo and his lieutenant threw\nthemselves on it, the animal ejected a stream of black liquid.  We were\nblinded with it.  When the cloud dispersed, the cuttlefish had\ndisappeared, and my unfortunate countryman with it.  Ten or twelve\npoulps now invaded the platform and sides of the Nautilus.  We rolled\npell-mell into the midst of this nest of serpents, that wriggled on the\nplatform in the waves of blood and ink.  It seemed as though these\nslimy tentacles sprang up like the hydra's heads.  Ned Land's harpoon,\nat each stroke, was plunged into the staring eyes of the cuttle fish.\nBut my bold companion was suddenly overturned by the tentacles of a\nmonster he had not been able to avoid.\n\nAh! how my heart beat with emotion and horror!  The formidable beak of\na cuttlefish was open over Ned Land.  The unhappy man would be cut in\ntwo.  I rushed to his succour.  But Captain Nemo was before me; his axe\ndisappeared between the two enormous jaws, and, miraculously saved, the\nCanadian, rising, plunged his harpoon deep into the triple heart of the\npoulp.\n\n\"I owed myself this revenge!\" said the Captain to the Canadian.\n\nNed bowed without replying.  The combat had lasted a quarter of an\nhour.  The monsters, vanquished and mutilated, left us at last, and\ndisappeared under the waves.  Captain Nemo, covered with blood, nearly\nexhausted, gazed upon the sea that had swallowed up one of his\ncompanions, and great tears gathered in his eyes.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XIX\n\nTHE GULF STREAM\n\nThis terrible scene of the 20th of April none of us can ever forget.  I\nhave written it under the influence of violent emotion.  Since then I\nhave revised the recital; I have read it to Conseil and to the\nCanadian.  They found it exact as to facts, but insufficient as to\neffect.  To paint such pictures, one must have the pen of the most\nillustrious of our poets, the author of The Toilers of the Deep.\n\nI have said that Captain Nemo wept while watching the waves; his grief\nwas great.  It was the second companion he had lost since our arrival\non board, and what a death!  That friend, crushed, stifled, bruised by\nthe dreadful arms of a poulp, pounded by his iron jaws, would not rest\nwith his comrades in the peaceful coral cemetery!  In the midst of the\nstruggle, it was the despairing cry uttered by the unfortunate man that\nhad torn my heart.  The poor Frenchman, forgetting his conventional\nlanguage, had taken to his own mother tongue, to utter a last appeal!\nAmongst the crew of the Nautilus, associated with the body and soul of\nthe Captain, recoiling like him from all contact with men, I had a\nfellow-countryman. Did he alone represent France in this mysterious\nassociation, evidently composed of individuals of divers nationalities?\nIt was one of these insoluble problems that rose up unceasingly before\nmy mind!\n\nCaptain Nemo entered his room, and I saw him no more for some time.\nBut that he was sad and irresolute I could see by the vessel, of which\nhe was the soul, and which received all his impressions.  The Nautilus\ndid not keep on in its settled course; it floated about like a corpse\nat the will of the waves.  It went at random.  He could not tear\nhimself away from the scene of the last struggle, from this sea that\nhad devoured one of his men.  Ten days passed thus.  It was not till\nthe 1st of May that the Nautilus resumed its northerly course, after\nhaving sighted the Bahamas at the mouth of the Bahama Canal.  We were\nthen following the current from the largest river to the sea, that has\nits banks, its fish, and its proper temperatures.  I mean the Gulf\nStream.  It is really a river, that flows freely to the middle of the\nAtlantic, and whose waters do not mix with the ocean waters.  It is a\nsalt river, salter than the surrounding sea.  Its mean depth is 1,500\nfathoms, its mean breadth ten miles.  In certain places the current\nflows with the speed of two miles and a half an hour.  The body of its\nwaters is more considerable than that of all the rivers in the globe.\nIt was on this ocean river that the Nautilus then sailed.\n\nI must add that, during the night, the phosphorescent waters of the\nGulf Stream rivalled the electric power of our watch-light, especially\nin the stormy weather that threatened us so frequently.  May 8th, we\nwere still crossing Cape Hatteras, at the height of the North Caroline.\nThe width of the Gulf Stream there is seventy-five miles, and its depth\n210 yards.  The Nautilus still went at random; all supervision seemed\nabandoned.  I thought that, under these circumstances, escape would be\npossible.  Indeed, the inhabited shores offered anywhere an easy\nrefuge.  The sea was incessantly ploughed by the steamers that ply\nbetween New York or Boston and the Gulf of Mexico, and overrun day and\nnight by the little schooners coasting about the several parts of the\nAmerican coast.  We could hope to be picked up.  It was a favourable\nopportunity, notwithstanding the thirty miles that separated the\nNautilus from the coasts of the Union.  One unfortunate circumstance\nthwarted the Canadian's plans.  The weather was very bad.  We were\nnearing those shores where tempests are so frequent, that country of\nwaterspouts and cyclones actually engendered by the current of the Gulf\nStream.  To tempt the sea in a frail boat was certain destruction.  Ned\nLand owned this himself.  He fretted, seized with nostalgia that flight\nonly could cure.\n\n\"Master,\" he said that day to me, \"this must come to an end.  I must\nmake a clean breast of it.  This Nemo is leaving land and going up to\nthe north.  But I declare to you that I have had enough of the South\nPole, and I will not follow him to the North.\"\n\n\"What is to be done, Ned, since flight is impracticable just now?\"\n\n\"We must speak to the Captain,\" said he; \"you said nothing when we were\nin your native seas.  I will speak, now we are in mine.  When I think\nthat before long the Nautilus will be by Nova Scotia, and that there\nnear New foundland is a large bay, and into that bay the St. Lawrence\nempties itself, and that the St. Lawrence is my river, the river by\nQuebec, my native town--when I think of this, I feel furious, it makes\nmy hair stand on end.  Sir, I would rather throw myself into the sea!\nI will not stay here!  I am stifled!\"\n\nThe Canadian was evidently losing all patience.  His vigorous nature\ncould not stand this prolonged imprisonment.  His face altered daily;\nhis temper became more surly.  I knew what he must suffer, for I was\nseized with home-sickness myself.  Nearly seven months had passed\nwithout our having had any news from land; Captain Nemo's isolation,\nhis altered spirits, especially since the fight with the poulps, his\ntaciturnity, all made me view things in a different light.\n\n\"Well, sir?\" said Ned, seeing I did not reply.\n\n\"Well, Ned, do you wish me to ask Captain Nemo his intentions\nconcerning us?\"\n\n\"Yes, sir.\"\n\n\"Although he has already made them known?\"\n\n\"Yes; I wish it settled finally.  Speak for me, in my name only, if you\nlike.\"\n\n\"But I so seldom meet him.  He avoids me.\"\n\n\"That is all the more reason for you to go to see him.\"\n\nI went to my room.  From thence I meant to go to Captain Nemo's.  It\nwould not do to let this opportunity of meeting him slip.  I knocked at\nthe door.  No answer.  I knocked again, then turned the handle.  The\ndoor opened, I went in.  The Captain was there.  Bending over his\nwork-table, he had not heard me.  Resolved not to go without having\nspoken, I approached him.  He raised his head quickly, frowned, and\nsaid roughly, \"You here!  What do you want?\"\n\n\"To speak to you, Captain.\"\n\n\"But I am busy, sir; I am working.  I leave you at liberty to shut\nyourself up; cannot I be allowed the same?\"\n\nThis reception was not encouraging; but I was determined to hear and\nanswer everything.\n\n\"Sir,\" I said coldly, \"I have to speak to you on a matter that admits\nof no delay.\"\n\n\"What is that, sir?\" he replied, ironically.  \"Have you discovered\nsomething that has escaped me, or has the sea delivered up any new\nsecrets?\"\n\nWe were at cross-purposes. But, before I could reply, he showed me an\nopen manuscript on his table, and said, in a more serious tone, \"Here,\nM. Aronnax, is a manuscript written in several languages.  It contains\nthe sum of my studies of the sea; and, if it please God, it shall not\nperish with me.  This manuscript, signed with my name, complete with\nthe history of my life, will be shut up in a little floating case.  The\nlast survivor of all of us on board the Nautilus will throw this case\ninto the sea, and it will go whither it is borne by the waves.\"\n\nThis man's name! his history written by himself!  His mystery would\nthen be revealed some day.\n\n\"Captain,\" I said, \"I can but approve of the idea that makes you act\nthus.  The result of your studies must not be lost.  But the means you\nemploy seem to me to be primitive.  Who knows where the winds will\ncarry this case, and in whose hands it will fall?  Could you not use\nsome other means?  Could not you, or one of yours----\"\n\n\"Never, sir!\" he said, hastily interrupting me.\n\n\"But I and my companions are ready to keep this manuscript in store;\nand, if you will put us at liberty----\"\n\n\"At liberty?\" said the Captain, rising.\n\n\"Yes, sir; that is the subject on which I wish to question you.  For\nseven months we have been here on board, and I ask you to-day, in the\nname of my companions and in my own, if your intention is to keep us\nhere always?\"\n\n\"M. Aronnax, I will answer you to-day as I did seven months ago:\nWhoever enters the Nautilus, must never quit it.\"\n\n\"You impose actual slavery upon us!\"\n\n\"Give it what name you please.\"\n\n\"But everywhere the slave has the right to regain his liberty.\"\n\n\"Who denies you this right?  Have I ever tried to chain you with an\noath?\"\n\nHe looked at me with his arms crossed.\n\n\"Sir,\" I said, \"to return a second time to this subject will be neither\nto your nor to my taste; but, as we have entered upon it, let us go\nthrough with it.  I repeat, it is not only myself whom it concerns.\nStudy is to me a relief, a diversion, a passion that could make me\nforget everything.  Like you, I am willing to live obscure, in the\nfrail hope of bequeathing one day, to future time, the result of my\nlabours.  But it is otherwise with Ned Land.  Every man, worthy of the\nname, deserves some consideration.  Have you thought that love of\nliberty, hatred of slavery, can give rise to schemes of revenge in a\nnature like the Canadian's; that he could think, attempt, and try----\"\n\nI was silenced; Captain Nemo rose.\n\n\"Whatever Ned Land thinks of, attempts, or tries, what does it matter\nto me?  I did not seek him!  It is not for my pleasure that I keep him\non board!  As for you, M. Aronnax, you are one of those who can\nunderstand everything, even silence.  I have nothing more to say to\nyou.  Let this first time you have come to treat of this subject be the\nlast, for a second time I will not listen to you.\"\n\nI retired.  Our situation was critical.  I related my conversation to\nmy two companions.\n\n\"We know now,\" said Ned, \"that we can expect nothing from this man.\nThe Nautilus is nearing Long Island.  We will escape, whatever the\nweather may be.\"\n\nBut the sky became more and more threatening.  Symptoms of a hurricane\nbecame manifest.  The atmosphere was becoming white and misty.  On the\nhorizon fine streaks of cirrhous clouds were succeeded by masses of\ncumuli.  Other low clouds passed swiftly by.  The swollen sea rose in\nhuge billows.  The birds disappeared with the exception of the petrels,\nthose friends of the storm.  The barometer fell sensibly, and indicated\nan extreme extension of the vapours.  The mixture of the storm glass\nwas decomposed under the influence of the electricity that pervaded the\natmosphere.  The tempest burst on the 18th of May, just as the Nautilus\nwas floating off Long Island, some miles from the port of New York.  I\ncan describe this strife of the elements! for, instead of fleeing to\nthe depths of the sea, Captain Nemo, by an unaccountable caprice, would\nbrave it at the surface.  The wind blew from the south-west at first.\nCaptain Nemo, during the squalls, had taken his place on the platform.\nHe had made himself fast, to prevent being washed overboard by the\nmonstrous waves.  I had hoisted myself up, and made myself fast also,\ndividing my admiration between the tempest and this extraordinary man\nwho was coping with it.  The raging sea was swept by huge cloud-drifts,\nwhich were actually saturated with the waves.  The Nautilus, sometimes\nlying on its side, sometimes standing up like a mast, rolled and\npitched terribly.  About five o'clock a torrent of rain fell, that\nlulled neither sea nor wind.  The hurri cane blew nearly forty leagues\nan hour.  It is under these conditions that it overturns houses, breaks\niron gates, displaces twenty-four pounders.  However, the Nautilus, in\nthe midst of the tempest, confirmed the words of a clever engineer,\n\"There is no well-constructed hull that cannot defy the sea.\" This was\nnot a resisting rock; it was a steel spindle, obedient and movable,\nwithout rigging or masts, that braved its fury with impunity.  However,\nI watched these raging waves attentively.  They measured fifteen feet\nin height, and 150 to 175 yards long, and their speed of propagation\nwas thirty feet per second.  Their bulk and power increased with the\ndepth of the water.  Such waves as these, at the Hebrides, have\ndisplaced a mass weighing 8,400 lb.  They are they which, in the\ntempest of December 23rd, 1864, after destroying the town of Yeddo, in\nJapan, broke the same day on the shores of America.  The intensity of\nthe tempest increased with the night.  The barometer, as in 1860 at\nReunion during a cyclone, fell seven-tenths at the close of day.  I saw\na large vessel pass the horizon struggling painfully.  She was trying\nto lie to under half steam, to keep up above the waves.  It was\nprobably one of the steamers of the line from New York to Liverpool, or\nHavre.  It soon disappeared in the gloom.  At ten o'clock in the\nevening the sky was on fire.  The atmosphere was streaked with vivid\nlightning.  I could not bear the brightness of it; while the captain,\nlooking at it, seemed to envy the spirit of the tempest.  A terrible\nnoise filled the air, a complex noise, made up of the howls of the\ncrushed waves, the roaring of the wind, and the claps of thunder.  The\nwind veered suddenly to all points of the horizon; and the cyclone,\nrising in the east, returned after passing by the north, west, and\nsouth, in the inverse course pursued by the circular storm of the\nsouthern hemisphere.  Ah, that Gulf Stream!  It deserves its name of\nthe King of Tempests.  It is that which causes those formidable\ncyclones, by the difference of temperature between its air and its\ncurrents.  A shower of fire had succeeded the rain.  The drops of water\nwere changed to sharp spikes.  One would have thought that Captain Nemo\nwas courting a death worthy of himself, a death by lightning.  As the\nNautilus, pitching dreadfully, raised its steel spur in the air, it\nseemed to act as a conductor, and I saw long sparks burst from it.\nCrushed and without strength I crawled to the panel, opened it, and\ndescended to the saloon.  The storm was then at its height.  It was\nimpossible to stand upright in the interior of the Nautilus.  Captain\nNemo came down about twelve.  I heard the reservoirs filling by\ndegrees, and the Nautilus sank slowly beneath the waves.  Through the\nopen windows in the saloon I saw large fish terrified, passing like\nphantoms in the water.  Some were struck before my eyes.  The Nautilus\nwas still descending.  I thought that at about eight fathoms deep we\nshould find a calm.  But no! the upper beds were too violently agitated\nfor that.  We had to seek repose at more than twenty-five fathoms in\nthe bowels of the deep.  But there, what quiet, what silence, what\npeace!  Who could have told that such a hurricane had been let loose on\nthe surface of that ocean?\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XX\n\nFROM LATITUDE 47° 24' TO LONGITUDE 17° 28'\n\nIn consequence of the storm, we had been thrown eastward once more.\nAll hope of escape on the shores of New York or St. Lawrence had faded\naway; and poor Ned, in despair, had isolated himself like Captain Nemo.\nConseil and I, however, never left each other.  I said that the\nNautilus had gone aside to the east.  I should have said (to be more\nexact) the north-east. For some days, it wandered first on the surface,\nand then beneath it, amid those fogs so dreaded by sailors.  What\naccidents are due to these thick fogs!  What shocks upon these reefs\nwhen the wind drowns the breaking of the waves!  What collisions\nbetween vessels, in spite of their warning lights, whistles, and alarm\nbells!  And the bottoms of these seas look like a field of battle,\nwhere still lie all the conquered of the ocean; some old and already\nencrusted, others fresh and reflecting from their iron bands and copper\nplates the brilliancy of our lantern.\n\nOn the 15th of May we were at the extreme south of the Bank of\nNewfoundland.  This bank consists of alluvia, or large heaps of organic\nmatter, brought either from the Equator by the Gulf Stream, or from the\nNorth Pole by the counter-current of cold water which skirts the\nAmerican coast.  There also are heaped up those erratic blocks which\nare carried along by the broken ice; and close by, a vast charnel-house\nof molluscs, which perish here by millions.  The depth of the sea is\nnot great at Newfoundland--not more than some hundreds of fathoms; but\ntowards the south is a depression of 1,500 fathoms.  There the Gulf\nStream widens.  It loses some of its speed and some of its temperature,\nbut it becomes a sea.\n\nIt was on the 17th of May, about 500 miles from Heart's Content, at a\ndepth of more than 1,400 fathoms, that I saw the electric cable lying\non the bottom.  Conseil, to whom I had not mentioned it, thought at\nfirst that it was a gigantic sea-serpent. But I undeceived the worthy\nfellow, and by way of consolation related several particulars in the\nlaying of this cable.  The first one was laid in the years 1857 and\n1858; but, after transmitting about 400 telegrams, would not act any\nlonger.  In 1863 the engineers constructed an other one, measuring\n2,000 miles in length, and weighing 4,500 tons, which was embarked on\nthe Great Eastern.  This attempt also failed.\n\nOn the 25th of May the Nautilus, being at a depth of more than 1,918\nfathoms, was on the precise spot where the rupture occurred which\nruined the enterprise.  It was within 638 miles of the coast of\nIreland; and at half-past two in the afternoon they discovered that\ncommunication with Europe had ceased.  The electricians on board\nresolved to cut the cable before fishing it up, and at eleven o'clock\nat night they had recovered the damaged part.  They made another point\nand spliced it, and it was once more submerged.  But some days after it\nbroke again, and in the depths of the ocean could not be recaptured.\nThe Americans, however, were not discouraged.  Cyrus Field, the bold\npromoter of the enterprise, as he had sunk all his own fortune, set a\nnew subscription on foot, which was at once answered, and another cable\nwas constructed on better principles.  The bundles of conducting wires\nwere each enveloped in gutta-percha, and protected by a wadding of\nhemp, contained in a metallic covering.  The Great Eastern sailed on\nthe 13th of July, 1866.  The operation worked well.  But one incident\noccurred.  Several times in unrolling the cable they observed that\nnails had recently been forced into it, evidently with the motive of\ndestroying it.  Captain Anderson, the officers, and engineers consulted\ntogether, and had it posted up that, if the offender was surprised on\nboard, he would be thrown without further trial into the sea.  From\nthat time the criminal attempt was never repeated.\n\nOn the 23rd of July the Great Eastern was not more than 500 miles from\nNewfoundland, when they telegraphed from Ireland the news of the\narmistice concluded between Prussia and Austria after Sadowa.  On the\n27th, in the midst of heavy fogs, they reached the port of Heart's\nContent.  The enterprise was successfully terminated; and for its first\ndespatch, young America addressed old Europe in these words of wisdom,\nso rarely understood:  \"Glory to God in the highest, and on earth\npeace, goodwill towards men.\"\n\nI did not expect to find the electric cable in its primitive state,\nsuch as it was on leaving the manufactory.  The long serpent, covered\nwith the remains of shells, bristling with foraminiferae, was encrusted\nwith a strong coating which served as a protection against all boring\nmolluscs.  It lay quietly sheltered from the motions of the sea, and\nunder a favourable pressure for the transmission of the electric spark\nwhich passes from Europe to America in .32 of a second.  Doubtless this\ncable will last for a great length of time, for they find that the\ngutta-percha covering is improved by the sea-water. Besides, on this\nlevel, so well chosen, the cable is never so deeply submerged as to\ncause it to break.  The Nautilus followed it to the lowest depth, which\nwas more than 2,212 fathoms, and there it lay without any anchorage;\nand then we reached the spot where the accident had taken place in\n1863.  The bottom of the ocean then formed a valley about 100 miles\nbroad, in which Mont Blanc might have been placed without its summit\nappearing above the waves.  This valley is closed at the east by a\nperpendicular wall more than 2,000 yards high.  We arrived there on the\n28th of May, and the Nautilus was then not more than 120 miles from\nIreland.\n\nWas Captain Nemo going to land on the British Isles?  No. To my great\nsurprise he made for the south, once more coming back towards European\nseas.  In rounding the Emerald Isle, for one instant I caught sight of\nCape Clear, and the light which guides the thousands of vessels leaving\nGlasgow or Liverpool.  An important question then arose in my mind.\nDid the Nautilus dare entangle itself in the Manche?  Ned Land, who had\nre-appeared since we had been nearing land, did not cease to question\nme.  How could I answer?  Captain Nemo remained invisible.  After\nhaving shown the Canadian a glimpse of American shores, was he going to\nshow me the coast of France?\n\nBut the Nautilus was still going southward.  On the 30th of May, it\npassed in sight of Land's End, between the extreme point of England and\nthe Scilly Isles, which were left to starboard.  If we wished to enter\nthe Manche, he must go straight to the east.  He did not do so.\n\nDuring the whole of the 31st of May, the Nautilus described a series of\ncircles on the water, which greatly interested me.  It seemed to be\nseeking a spot it had some trouble in finding.  At noon, Captain Nemo\nhimself came to work the ship's log.  He spoke no word to me, but\nseemed gloomier than ever.  What could sadden him thus?  Was it his\nproxim ity to European shores?  Had he some recollections of his\nabandoned country?  If not, what did he feel?  Remorse or regret?  For\na long while this thought haunted my mind, and I had a kind of\npresentiment that before long chance would betray the captain's secrets.\n\nThe next day, the 1st of June, the Nautilus continued the same process.\nIt was evidently seeking some particular spot in the ocean.  Captain\nNemo took the sun's altitude as he had done the day before.  The sea\nwas beautiful, the sky clear.  About eight miles to the east, a large\nsteam vessel could be discerned on the horizon.  No flag fluttered from\nits mast, and I could not discover its nationality.  Some minutes\nbefore the sun passed the meridian, Captain Nemo took his sextant, and\nwatched with great attention.  The perfect rest of the water greatly\nhelped the operation.  The Nautilus was motionless; it neither rolled\nnor pitched.\n\nI was on the platform when the altitude was taken, and the Captain\npronounced these words:  \"It is here.\"\n\nHe turned and went below.  Had he seen the vessel which was changing\nits course and seemed to be nearing us?  I could not tell.  I returned\nto the saloon.  The panels closed, I heard the hissing of the water in\nthe reservoirs.  The Nautilus began to sink, following a vertical line,\nfor its screw communicated no motion to it.  Some minutes later it\nstopped at a depth of more than 420 fathoms, resting on the ground.\nThe luminous ceiling was darkened, then the panels were opened, and\nthrough the glass I saw the sea brilliantly illuminated by the rays of\nour lantern for at least half a mile round us.\n\nI looked to the port side, and saw nothing but an immensity of quiet\nwaters.  But to starboard, on the bottom appeared a large protuberance,\nwhich at once attracted my attention.  One would have thought it a ruin\nburied under a coating of white shells, much resembling a covering of\nsnow.  Upon examining the mass attentively, I could recognise the\never-thickening form of a vessel bare of its masts, which must have\nsunk.  It certainly belonged to past times.  This wreck, to be thus\nencrusted with the lime of the water, must already be able to count\nmany years passed at the bottom of the ocean.\n\nWhat was this vessel?  Why did the Nautilus visit its tomb?  Could it\nhave been aught but a shipwreck which had drawn it under the water?  I\nknew not what to think, when near me in a slow voice I heard Captain\nNemo say:\n\n\"At one time this ship was called the Marseillais.  It carried\nseventy-four guns, and was launched in 1762.  In 1778, the 13th of\nAugust, commanded by La Poype-Ver trieux, it fought boldly against the\nPreston.  In 1779, on the 4th of July, it was at the taking of Grenada,\nwith the squadron of Admiral Estaing.  In 1781, on the 5th of\nSeptember, it took part in the battle of Comte de Grasse, in Chesapeake\nBay.  In 1794, the French Republic changed its name.  On the 16th of\nApril, in the same year, it joined the squadron of Villaret Joyeuse, at\nBrest, being entrusted with the escort of a cargo of corn coming from\nAmerica, under the command of Admiral Van Stebel.  On the 11th and 12th\nPrairal of the second year, this squadron fell in with an English\nvessel.  Sir, to-day is the 13th Prairal, the first of June, 1868.  It\nis now seventy-four years ago, day for day on this very spot, in\nlatitude 47° 24', longitude 17° 28', that this vessel, after\nfighting heroically, losing its three masts, with the water in its\nhold, and the third of its crew disabled, preferred sinking with its\n356 sailors to surrendering; and, nailing its colours to the poop,\ndisappeared under the waves to the cry of `Long live the Republic!'\"\n\n\"The Avenger!\"  I exclaimed.\n\n\"Yes, sir, the Avenger!  A good name!\" muttered Captain Nemo, crossing\nhis arms.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXI\n\nA HECATOMB\n\nThe way of describing this unlooked-for scene, the history of the\npatriot ship, told at first so coldly, and the emotion with which this\nstrange man pronounced the last words, the name of the Avenger, the\nsignificance of which could not escape me, all impressed itself deeply\non my mind.  My eyes did not leave the Captain, who, with his hand\nstretched out to sea, was watching with a glowing eye the glorious\nwreck.  Perhaps I was never to know who he was, from whence he came, or\nwhere he was going to, but I saw the man move, and apart from the\n_savant_.  It was no common misanthropy which had shut Captain Nemo and\nhis companions within the Nautilus, but a hatred, either monstrous or\nsublime, which time could never weaken.  Did this hatred still seek for\nvengeance?  The future would soon teach me that.  But the Nautilus was\nrising slowly to the surface of the sea, and the form of the Avenger\ndisappeared by degrees from my sight.  Soon a slight rolling told me\nthat we were in the open air.  At that moment a dull boom was heard.  I\nlooked at the Captain.  He did not move.\n\n\"Captain?\" said I.\n\nHe did not answer.  I left him and mounted the platform.  Conseil and\nthe Canadian were already there.\n\n\"Where did that sound come from?\"  I asked.\n\n\"It was a gunshot,\" replied Ned Land.\n\nI looked in the direction of the vessel I had already seen.  It was\nnearing the Nautilus, and we could see that it was putting on steam.\nIt was within six miles of us.\n\n\"What is that ship, Ned?\"\n\n\"By its rigging, and the height of its lower masts,\" said the Canadian,\n\"I bet she is a ship-of-war. May it reach us; and, if necessary, sink\nthis cursed Nautilus.\"\n\n\"Friend Ned,\" replied Conseil, \"what harm can it do to the Nautilus?\nCan it attack it beneath the waves?  Can its cannonade us at the bottom\nof the sea?\"\n\n\"Tell me, Ned,\" said I, \"can you recognise what country she belongs to?\"\n\nThe Canadian knitted his eyebrows, dropped his eyelids, and screwed up\nthe corners of his eyes, and for a few moments fixed a piercing look\nupon the vessel.\n\n\"No, sir,\" he replied; \"I cannot tell what nation she belongs to, for\nshe shows no colours.  But I can declare she is a man-of-war, for a\nlong pennant flutters from her main mast.\"\n\nFor a quarter of an hour we watched the ship which was steaming towards\nus.  I could not, however, believe that she could see the Nautilus from\nthat distance; and still less that she could know what this submarine\nengine was.  Soon the Canadian informed me that she was a large,\narmoured, two-decker ram.  A thick black smoke was pouring from her two\nfunnels.  Her closely-furled sails were stopped to her yards.  She\nhoisted no flag at her mizzen-peak. The distance prevented us from\ndistinguishing the colours of her pennant, which floated like a thin\nribbon.  She advanced rapidly.  If Captain Nemo allowed her to\napproach, there was a chance of salvation for us.\n\n\"Sir,\" said Ned Land, \"if that vessel passes within a mile of us I\nshall throw myself into the sea, and I should advise you to do the\nsame.\"\n\nI did not reply to the Canadian's suggestion, but continued watching\nthe ship.  Whether English, French, American, or Russian, she would be\nsure to take us in if we could only reach her.  Presently a white smoke\nburst from the fore part of the vessel; some seconds after, the water,\nagitated by the fall of a heavy body, splashed the stern of the\nNautilus, and shortly afterwards a loud explosion struck my ear.\n\n\"What! they are firing at us!\"  I exclaimed.\n\n\"So please you, sir,\" said Ned, \"they have recognised the unicorn, and\nthey are firing at us.\"\n\n\"But,\" I exclaimed, \"surely they can see that there are men in the\ncase?\"\n\n\"It is, perhaps, because of that,\" replied Ned Land, looking at me.\n\nA whole flood of light burst upon my mind.  Doubtless they knew now how\nto believe the stories of the pretended monster.  No doubt, on board\nthe Abraham Lincoln, when the Canadian struck it with the harpoon,\nCommander Farragut had recognised in the supposed narwhal a submarine\nvessel, more dangerous than a supernatural cetacean.  Yes, it must have\nbeen so; and on every sea they were now seeking this engine of\ndestruction.  Terrible indeed! if, as we supposed, Captain Nemo\nemployed the Nautilus in works of vengeance.  On the night when we were\nimprisoned in that cell, in the midst of the Indian Ocean, had he not\nattacked some vessel?  The man buried in the coral cemetery, had he not\nbeen a victim to the shock caused by the Nautilus?  Yes, I repeat it,\nit must be so.  One part of the mysterious existence of Captain Nemo\nhad been unveiled; and, if his identity had not been recognised, at\nleast, the nations united against him were no longer hunting a\nchimerical creature, but a man who had vowed a deadly hatred against\nthem.  All the formidable past rose before me.  Instead of meeting\nfriends on board the approaching ship, we could only expect pitiless\nenemies.  But the shot rattled about us.  Some of them struck the sea\nand ricochetted, losing themselves in the distance.  But none touched\nthe Nautilus.  The vessel was not more than three miles from us.  In\nspite of the serious cannonade, Captain Nemo did not appear on the\nplatform; but, if one of the conical projectiles had struck the shell\nof the Nautilus, it would have been fatal.  The Canadian then said,\n\"Sir, we must do all we can to get out of this dilemma.  Let us signal\nthem.  They will then, perhaps, understand that we are honest folks.\"\n\nNed Land took his handkerchief to wave in the air; but he had scarcely\ndisplayed it, when he was struck down by an iron hand, and fell, in\nspite of his great strength, upon the deck.\n\n\"Fool!\" exclaimed the Captain, \"do you wish to be pierced by the spur\nof the Nautilus before it is hurled at this vessel?\"\n\nCaptain Nemo was terrible to hear; he was still more terrible to see.\nHis face was deadly pale, with a spasm at his heart.  For an instant it\nmust have ceased to beat.  His pupils were fearfully contracted.  He\ndid not speak, he roared, as, with his body thrown forward, he wrung\nthe Canadian's shoulders.  Then, leaving him, and turning to the ship\nof war, whose shot was still raining around him, he exclaimed, with a\npowerful voice, \"Ah, ship of an accursed nation, you know who I am!  I\ndo not want your colours to know you by!  Look! and I will show you\nmine!\"\n\nAnd on the fore part of the platform Captain Nemo unfurled a black\nflag, similar to the one he had placed at the South Pole.  At that\nmoment a shot struck the shell of the Nautilus obliquely, without\npiercing it; and, rebounding near the Captain, was lost in the sea.  He\nshrugged his shoulders; and, addressing me, said shortly, \"Go down, you\nand your companions, go down!\"\n\n\"Sir,\" I cried, \"are you going to attack this vessel?\"\n\n\"Sir, I am going to sink it.\"\n\n\"You will not do that?\"\n\n\"I shall do it,\" he replied coldly.  \"And I advise you not to judge me,\nsir.  Fate has shown you what you ought not to have seen.  The attack\nhas begun; go down.\"\n\n\"What is this vessel?\"\n\n\"You do not know?  Very well! so much the better!  Its nationality to\nyou, at least, will be a secret.  Go down!\"\n\nWe could but obey.  About fifteen of the sailors surrounded the\nCaptain, looking with implacable hatred at the vessel nearing them.\nOne could feel that the same desire of vengeance animated every soul.\nI went down at the moment another projectile struck the Nautilus, and I\nheard the Captain exclaim:\n\n\"Strike, mad vessel!  Shower your useless shot!  And then, you will not\nescape the spur of the Nautilus.  But it is not here that you shall\nperish!  I would not have your ruins mingle with those of the Avenger!\"\n\nI reached my room.  The Captain and his second had remained on the\nplatform.  The screw was set in motion, and the Nautilus, moving with\nspeed, was soon beyond the reach of the ship's guns.  But the pursuit\ncontinued, and Captain Nemo contented himself with keeping his distance.\n\nAbout four in the afternoon, being no longer able to contain my\nimpatience, I went to the central staircase.  The panel was open, and I\nventured on to the platform.  The Captain was still walking up and down\nwith an agitated step.  He was looking at the ship, which was five or\nsix miles to leeward.\n\nHe was going round it like a wild beast, and, drawing it eastward, he\nallowed them to pursue.  But he did not attack.  Perhaps he still\nhesitated?  I wished to mediate once more.  But I had scarcely spoken,\nwhen Captain Nemo imposed silence, saying:\n\n\"I am the law, and I am the judge!  I am the oppressed, and there is\nthe oppressor!  Through him I have lost all that I loved, cherished,\nand venerated--country, wife, children, father, and mother.  I saw all\nperish!  All that I hate is there!  Say no more!\"\n\nI cast a last look at the man-of-war, which was putting on steam, and\nrejoined Ned and Conseil.\n\n\"We will fly!\"  I exclaimed.\n\n\"Good!\" said Ned.  \"What is this vessel?\"\n\n\"I do not know; but, whatever it is, it will be sunk before night.  In\nany case, it is better to perish with it, than be made accomplices in a\nretaliation the justice of which we cannot judge.\"\n\n\"That is my opinion too,\" said Ned Land, coolly.  \"Let us wait for\nnight.\"\n\nNight arrived.  Deep silence reigned on board.  The compass showed that\nthe Nautilus had not altered its course.  It was on the surface,\nrolling slightly.  My companions and I resolved to fly when the vessel\nshould be near enough either to hear us or to see us; for the moon,\nwhich would be full in two or three days, shone brightly.  Once on\nboard the ship, if we could not prevent the blow which threatened it,\nwe could, at least we would, do all that circumstances would allow.\nSeveral times I thought the Nautilus was preparing for attack; but\nCaptain Nemo contented himself with allowing his adversary to approach,\nand then fled once more before it.\n\nPart of the night passed without any incident.  We watched the\nopportunity for action.  We spoke little, for we were too much moved.\nNed Land would have thrown himself into the sea, but I forced him to\nwait.  According to my idea, the Nautilus would attack the ship at her\nwaterline, and then it would not only be possible, but easy to fly.\n\nAt three in the morning, full of uneasiness, I mounted the platform.\nCaptain Nemo had not left it.  He was standing at the fore part near\nhis flag, which a slight breeze displayed above his head.  He did not\ntake his eyes from the vessel.  The intensity of his look seemed to\nattract, and fascinate, and draw it onward more surely than if he had\nbeen towing it.  The moon was then passing the meridian.  Jupiter was\nrising in the east.  Amid this peaceful scene of nature, sky and ocean\nrivalled each other in tranquillity, the sea offering to the orbs of\nnight the finest mirror they could ever have in which to reflect their\nimage.  As I thought of the deep calm of these elements, compared with\nall those passions brooding imperceptibly within the Nautilus, I\nshuddered.\n\nThe vessel was within two miles of us.  It was ever nearing that\nphosphorescent light which showed the presence of the Nautilus.  I\ncould see its green and red lights, and its white lantern hanging from\nthe large foremast.  An indistinct vibration quivered through its\nrigging, showing that the furnaces were heated to the uttermost.\nSheaves of sparks and red ashes flew from the funnels, shining in the\natmosphere like stars.\n\nI remained thus until six in the morning, without Captain Nemo noticing\nme.  The ship stood about a mile and a half from us, and with the first\ndawn of day the firing began afresh.  The moment could not be far off\nwhen, the Nautilus attacking its adversary, my companions and myself\nshould for ever leave this man.  I was preparing to go down to remind\nthem, when the second mounted the platform, accompanied by several\nsailors.  Captain Nemo either did not or would not see them.  Some\nsteps were taken which might be called the signal for action.  They\nwere very simple.  The iron balustrade around the platform was lowered,\nand the lantern and pilot cages were pushed within the shell until they\nwere flush with the deck.  The long surface of the steel cigar no\nlonger offered a single point to check its manoeuvres.  I returned to\nthe saloon.  The Nautilus still floated; some streaks of light were\nfiltering through the liquid beds.  With the undulations of the waves\nthe windows were brightened by the red streaks of the rising sun, and\nthis dreadful day of the 2nd of June had dawned.\n\nAt five o'clock, the log showed that the speed of the Nautilus was\nslackening, and I knew that it was allowing them to draw nearer.\nBesides, the reports were heard more distinctly, and the projectiles,\nlabouring through the ambient water, were extinguished with a strange\nhissing noise.\n\n\"My friends,\" said I, \"the moment is come.  One grasp of the hand, and\nmay God protect us!\"\n\nNed Land was resolute, Conseil calm, myself so nervous that I knew not\nhow to contain myself.  We all passed into the library; but the moment\nI pushed the door opening on to the central staircase, I heard the\nupper panel close sharply.  The Canadian rushed on to the stairs, but I\nstopped him.  A well-known hissing noise told me that the water was\nrunning into the reservoirs, and in a few minutes the Nautilus was some\nyards beneath the surface of the waves.  I understood the manoeuvre.\nIt was too late to act.  The Nautilus did not wish to strike at the\nimpenetrable cuirass, but below the water-line, where the metallic\ncovering no longer protected it.\n\nWe were again imprisoned, unwilling witnesses of the dreadful drama\nthat was preparing.  We had scarcely time to reflect; taking refuge in\nmy room, we looked at each other without speaking.  A deep stupor had\ntaken hold of my mind:  thought seemed to stand still.  I was in that\npainful state of expectation preceding a dreadful report.  I waited, I\nlistened, every sense was merged in that of hearing!  The speed of the\nNautilus was accelerated.  It was preparing to rush.  The whole ship\ntrembled.  Suddenly I screamed.  I felt the shock, but comparatively\nlight.  I felt the penetrating power of the steel spur.  I heard\nrattlings and scrapings.  But the Nautilus, carried along by its\npropelling power, passed through the mass of the vessel like a needle\nthrough sailcloth!\n\nI could stand it no longer.  Mad, out of my mind, I rushed from my room\ninto the saloon.  Captain Nemo was there, mute, gloomy, implacable; he\nwas looking through the port panel.  A large mass cast a shadow on the\nwater; and, that it might lose nothing of her agony, the Nautilus was\ngoing down into the abyss with her.  Ten yards from me I saw the open\nshell, through which the water was rushing with the noise of thunder,\nthen the double line of guns and the netting.  The bridge was covered\nwith black, agitated shadows.\n\nThe water was rising.  The poor creatures were crowding the ratlines,\nclinging to the masts, struggling under the water.  It was a human\nant-heap overtaken by the sea.  Paralysed, stiffened with anguish, my\nhair standing on end, with eyes wide open, panting, without breath, and\nwithout voice, I too was watching!  An irresistible attraction glued me\nto the glass!  Suddenly an explosion took place.  The compressed air\nblew up her decks, as if the magazines had caught fire.  Then the\nunfortunate vessel sank more rapidly.  Her topmast, laden with victims,\nnow appeared; then her spars, bending under the weight of men; and,\nlast of all, the top of her mainmast.  Then the dark mass disappeared,\nand with it the dead crew, drawn down by the strong eddy.\n\nI turned to Captain Nemo.  That terrible avenger, a perfect archangel\nof hatred, was still looking.  When all was over, he turned to his\nroom, opened the door, and entered.  I followed him with my eyes.  On\nthe end wall beneath his heroes, I saw the portrait of a woman, still\nyoung, and two little children.  Captain Nemo looked at them for some\nmoments, stretched his arms towards them, and, kneeling down, burst\ninto deep sobs.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXII\n\nTHE LAST WORDS OF CAPTAIN NEMO\n\nThe panels had closed on this dreadful vision, but light had not\nreturned to the saloon:  all was silence and darkness within the\nNautilus.  At wonderful speed, a hundred feet beneath the water, it was\nleaving this desolate spot.  Whither was it going?  To the north or\nsouth?  Where was the man flying to after such dreadful retaliation?  I\nhad returned to my room, where Ned and Conseil had remained silent\nenough.  I felt an insurmountable horror for Captain Nemo.  Whatever he\nhad suffered at the hands of these men, he had no right to punish thus.\nHe had made me, if not an accomplice, at least a witness of his\nvengeance.  At eleven the electric light reappeared.  I passed into the\nsaloon.  It was deserted.  I consulted the different instruments.  The\nNautilus was flying northward at the rate of twenty-five miles an hour,\nnow on the surface, and now thirty feet below it.  On taking the\nbearings by the chart, I saw that we were passing the mouth of the\nManche, and that our course was hurrying us towards the northern seas\nat a frightful speed.  That night we had crossed two hundred leagues of\nthe Atlantic.  The shadows fell, and the sea was covered with darkness\nuntil the rising of the moon.  I went to my room, but could not sleep.\nI was troubled with dreadful nightmare.  The horrible scene of\ndestruction was continually before my eyes.  From that day, who could\ntell into what part of the North Atlantic basin the Nautilus would take\nus?  Still with unaccountable speed.  Still in the midst of these\nnorthern fogs.  Would it touch at Spitzbergen, or on the shores of Nova\nZembla?  Should we explore those unknown seas, the White Sea, the Sea\nof Kara, the Gulf of Obi, the Archipelago of Liarrov, and the unknown\ncoast of Asia?  I could not say.  I could no longer judge of the time\nthat was passing.  The clocks had been stopped on board.  It seemed, as\nin polar countries, that night and day no longer followed their regular\ncourse.  I felt myself being drawn into that strange region where the\nfoundered imagination of Edgar Poe roamed at will.  Like the fabulous\nGordon Pym, at every moment I expected to see \"that veiled human\nfigure, of larger proportions than those of any inhabitant of the\nearth, thrown across the cataract which defends the approach to the\npole.\" I estimated (though, perhaps, I may be mistaken)--I estimated\nthis adventurous course of the Nautilus to have lasted fifteen or\ntwenty days.  And I know not how much longer it might have lasted, had\nit not been for the catastrophe which ended this voyage.  Of Captain\nNemo I saw nothing whatever now, nor of his second.  Not a man of the\ncrew was visible for an instant.  The Nautilus was almost incessantly\nunder water.  When we came to the surface to renew the air, the panels\nopened and shut mechanically.  There were no more marks on the\nplanisphere.  I knew not where we were.  And the Canadian, too, his\nstrength and patience at an end, appeared no more.  Conseil could not\ndraw a word from him; and, fearing that, in a dreadful fit of madness,\nhe might kill himself, watched him with constant devotion.  One morning\n(what date it was I could not say) I had fallen into a heavy sleep\ntowards the early hours, a sleep both painful and unhealthy, when I\nsuddenly awoke.  Ned Land was leaning over me, saying, in a low voice,\n\"We are going to fly.\"  I sat up.\n\n\"When shall we go?\"  I asked.\n\n\"To-night. All inspection on board the Nautilus seems to have ceased.\nAll appear to be stupefied.  You will be ready, sir?\"\n\n\"Yes; where are we?\"\n\n\"In sight of land.  I took the reckoning this morning in the\nfog--twenty miles to the east.\"\n\n\"What country is it?\"\n\n\"I do not know; but, whatever it is, we will take refuge there.\"\n\n\"Yes, Ned, yes.  We will fly to-night, even if the sea should swallow\nus up.\"\n\n\"The sea is bad, the wind violent, but twenty miles in that light boat\nof the Nautilus does not frighten me.  Unknown to the crew, I have been\nable to procure food and some bottles of water.\"\n\n\"I will follow you.\"\n\n\"But,\" continued the Canadian, \"if I am surprised, I will defend\nmyself; I will force them to kill me.\"\n\n\"We will die together, friend Ned.\"\n\nI had made up my mind to all.  The Canadian left me.  I reached the\nplatform, on which I could with difficulty support myself against the\nshock of the waves.  The sky was threatening; but, as land was in those\nthick brown shadows, we must fly.  I returned to the saloon, fearing\nand yet hoping to see Captain Nemo, wishing and yet not wishing to see\nhim.  What could I have said to him?  Could I hide the involuntary\nhorror with which he inspired me?  No. It was better that I should not\nmeet him face to face; better to forget him.  And yet----  How long\nseemed that day, the last that I should pass in the Nautilus.  I\nremained alone.  Ned Land and Conseil avoided speaking, for fear of\nbetraying themselves.  At six I dined, but I was not hungry; I forced\nmyself to eat in spite of my disgust, that I might not weaken myself.\nAt half-past six Ned Land came to my room, saying, \"We shall not see\neach other again before our departure.  At ten the moon will not be\nrisen.  We will profit by the darkness.  Come to the boat; Conseil and\nI will wait for you.\"\n\nThe Canadian went out without giving me time to answer.  Wishing to\nverify the course of the Nautilus, I went to the saloon.  We were\nrunning N.N.E. at frightful speed, and more than fifty yards deep.  I\ncast a last look on these wonders of nature, on the riches of art\nheaped up in this museum, upon the unrivalled collection destined to\nperish at the bottom of the sea, with him who had formed it.  I wished\nto fix an indelible impression of it in my mind.  I remained an hour\nthus, bathed in the light of that luminous ceiling, and passing in\nreview those treasures shining under their glasses.  Then I returned to\nmy room.\n\nI dressed myself in strong sea clothing.  I collected my notes, placing\nthem carefully about me.  My heart beat loudly.  I could not check its\npulsations.  Certainly my trouble and agitation would have betrayed me\nto Captain Nemo's eyes.  What was he doing at this moment?  I listened\nat the door of his room.  I heard steps.  Captain Nemo was there.  He\nhad not gone to rest.  At every moment I expected to see him appear,\nand ask me why I wished to fly.  I was constantly on the alert.  My\nimagination magnified everything.  The impression became at last so\npoignant that I asked myself if it would not be better to go to the\nCaptain's room, see him face to face, and brave him with look and\ngesture.\n\nIt was the inspiration of a madman; fortunately I resisted the desire,\nand stretched myself on my bed to quiet my bodily agitation.  My nerves\nwere somewhat calmer, but in my excited brain I saw over again all my\nexistence on board the Nautilus; every incident, either happy or\nunfortunate, which had happened since my disappearance from the Abraham\nLincoln--the submarine hunt, the Torres Straits, the savages of Papua,\nthe running ashore, the coral cemetery, the passage of Suez, the Island\nof Santorin, the Cretan diver, Vigo Bay, Atlantis, the iceberg, the\nSouth Pole, the imprisonment in the ice, the fight among the poulps,\nthe storm in the Gulf Stream, the Avenger, and the horrible scene of\nthe vessel sunk with all her crew.  All these events passed before my\neyes like scenes in a drama.  Then Captain Nemo seemed to grow\nenormously, his features to assume superhuman proportions.  He was no\nlonger my equal, but a man of the waters, the genie of the sea.\n\nIt was then half-past nine.  I held my head between my hands to keep it\nfrom bursting.  I closed my eyes; I would not think any longer.  There\nwas another half-hour to wait, another half-hour of a nightmare, which\nmight drive me mad.\n\nAt that moment I heard the distant strains of the organ, a sad harmony\nto an undefinable chant, the wail of a soul longing to break these\nearthly bonds.  I listened with every sense, scarcely breathing;\nplunged, like Captain Nemo, in that musical ecstasy, which was drawing\nhim in spirit to the end of life.\n\nThen a sudden thought terrified me.  Captain Nemo had left his room.\nHe was in the saloon, which I must cross to fly.  There I should meet\nhim for the last time.  He would see me, perhaps speak to me.  A\ngesture of his might destroy me, a single word chain me on board.\n\nBut ten was about to strike.  The moment had come for me to leave my\nroom, and join my companions.\n\nI must not hesitate, even if Captain Nemo himself should rise before\nme.  I opened my door carefully; and even then, as it turned on its\nhinges, it seemed to me to make a dreadful noise.  Perhaps it only\nexisted in my own imagination.\n\nI crept along the dark stairs of the Nautilus, stopping at each step to\ncheck the beating of my heart.  I reached the door of the saloon, and\nopened it gently.  It was plunged in profound darkness.  The strains of\nthe organ sounded faintly.  Captain Nemo was there.  He did not see me.\nIn the full light I do not think he would have noticed me, so entirely\nwas he absorbed in the ecstasy.\n\nI crept along the carpet, avoiding the slightest sound which might\nbetray my presence.  I was at least five minutes reaching the door, at\nthe opposite side, opening into the library.\n\nI was going to open it, when a sigh from Captain Nemo nailed me to the\nspot.  I knew that he was rising.  I could even see him, for the light\nfrom the library came through to the saloon.  He came towards me\nsilently, with his arms crossed, gliding like a spectre rather than\nwalking.  His breast was swelling with sobs; and I heard him murmur\nthese words (the last which ever struck my ear):\n\n\"Almighty God! enough! enough!\"\n\nWas it a confession of remorse which thus escaped from this man's\nconscience?\n\nIn desperation, I rushed through the library, mounted the central\nstaircase, and, following the upper flight, reached the boat.  I crept\nthrough the opening, which had already admitted my two companions.\n\n\"Let us go! let us go!\"  I exclaimed.\n\n\"Directly!\" replied the Canadian.\n\nThe orifice in the plates of the Nautilus was first closed, and\nfastened down by means of a false key, with which Ned Land had provided\nhimself; the opening in the boat was also closed.  The Canadian began\nto loosen the bolts which still held us to the submarine boat.\n\nSuddenly a noise was heard.  Voices were answering each other loudly.\nWhat was the matter?  Had they discovered our flight?  I felt Ned Land\nslipping a dagger into my hand.\n\n\"Yes,\" I murmured, \"we know how to die!\"\n\nThe Canadian had stopped in his work.  But one word many times\nrepeated, a dreadful word, revealed the cause of the agitation\nspreading on board the Nautilus.  It was not we the crew were looking\nafter!\n\n\"The maelstrom! the maelstrom!\"  Could a more dreadful word in a more\ndreadful situation have sounded in our ears!  We were then upon the\ndangerous coast of Norway.  Was the Nautilus being drawn into this gulf\nat the moment our boat was going to leave its sides?  We knew that at\nthe tide the pent-up waters between the islands of Ferroe and Loffoden\nrush with irresistible violence, forming a whirlpool from which no\nvessel ever escapes.  From every point of the horizon enormous waves\nwere meeting, forming a gulf justly called the \"Navel of the Ocean,\"\nwhose power of attraction extends to a distance of twelve miles.\nThere, not only vessels, but whales are sacrificed, as well as white\nbears from the northern regions.\n\nIt is thither that the Nautilus, voluntarily or involuntarily, had been\nrun by the Captain.\n\nIt was describing a spiral, the circumference of which was lessening by\ndegrees, and the boat, which was still fastened to its side, was\ncarried along with giddy speed.  I felt that sickly giddiness which\narises from long-continued whirling round.\n\nWe were in dread.  Our horror was at its height, circulation had\nstopped, all nervous influence was annihilated, and we were covered\nwith cold sweat, like a sweat of agony!  And what noise around our\nfrail bark!  What roarings repeated by the echo miles away!  What an\nuproar was that of the waters broken on the sharp rocks at the bottom,\nwhere the hardest bodies are crushed, and trees worn away, \"with all\nthe fur rubbed off,\" according to the Norwegian phrase!\n\nWhat a situation to be in!  We rocked frightfully.  The Nautilus\ndefended itself like a human being.  Its steel muscles cracked.\nSometimes it seemed to stand upright, and we with it!\n\n\"We must hold on,\" said Ned, \"and look after the bolts.  We may still\nbe saved if we stick to the Nautilus.\"\n\nHe had not finished the words, when we heard a crashing noise, the\nbolts gave way, and the boat, torn from its groove, was hurled like a\nstone from a sling into the midst of the whirlpool.\n\nMy head struck on a piece of iron, and with the violent shock I lost\nall consciousness.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXIII\n\nCONCLUSION\n\nThus ends the voyage under the seas.  What passed during that\nnight--how the boat escaped from the eddies of the maelstrom--how Ned\nLand, Conseil, and myself ever came out of the gulf, I cannot tell.\n\nBut when I returned to consciousness, I was lying in a fisherman's hut,\non the Loffoden Isles.  My two companions, safe and sound, were near me\nholding my hands.  We embraced each other heartily.\n\nAt that moment we could not think of returning to France.  The means of\ncommunication between the north of Norway and the south are rare.  And\nI am therefore obliged to wait for the steamboat running monthly from\nCape North.\n\nAnd, among the worthy people who have so kindly received us, I revise\nmy record of these adventures once more.  Not a fact has been omitted,\nnot a detail exaggerated.  It is a faithful narrative of this\nincredible expedition in an element inaccessible to man, but to which\nProgress will one day open a road.\n\nShall I be believed?  I do not know.  And it matters little, after all.\nWhat I now affirm is, that I have a right to speak of these seas, under\nwhich, in less than ten months, I have crossed 20,000 leagues in that\nsubmarine tour of the world, which has revealed so many wonders.\n\nBut what has become of the Nautilus?  Did it resist the pressure of the\nmaelstrom?  Does Captain Nemo still live?  And does he still follow\nunder the ocean those frightful retaliations?  Or, did he stop after\nthe last hecatomb?\n\nWill the waves one day carry to him this manuscript containing the\nhistory of his life?  Shall I ever know the name of this man?  Will the\nmissing vessel tell us by its nationality that of Captain Nemo?\n\nI hope so.  And I also hope that his powerful vessel has conquered the\nsea at its most terrible gulf, and that the Nautilus has survived where\nso many other vessels have been lost!  If it be so--if Captain Nemo\nstill inhabits the ocean, his adopted country, may hatred be appeased\nin that savage heart!  May the contemplation of so many wonders\nextinguish for ever the spirit of vengeance!  May the judge disappear,\nand the philosopher continue the peaceful exploration of the sea!  If\nhis destiny be strange, it is also sublime.  Have I not understood it\nmyself?  Have I not lived ten months of this unnatural life?  And to\nthe question asked by Ecclesiastes three thousand years ago, \"That\nwhich is far off and exceeding deep, who can find it out?\" two men\nalone of all now living have the right to give an answer----\n\nCAPTAIN NEMO AND MYSELF."