His head is full of old recollections. And we must understand him.
What has he to do here? Nothing; he is not learned like you, sir; and
has not the same taste for the beauties of the sea that we have. He
would risk everything to be able to go once more into a tavern in his
own country."
Certainly the monotony on board must seem intolerable to the Canadian,
accustomed as he was to a life of liberty and activity. Events were
rare which could rouse him to any show of spirit; but that day an event
did happen which recalled the bright days of the harpooner. About
eleven in the morning, being on the surface of the ocean, the Nautilus
fell in with a troop of whales--an encounter which did not astonish me,
knowing that these creatures, hunted to death, had taken refuge in high
latitudes.
We were seated on the platform, with a quiet sea. The month of October
in those latitudes gave us some lovely autumnal days. It was the
Canadian--he could not be mistaken--who signalled a whale on the
eastern horizon. Looking attentively, one might see its black back
rise and fall with the waves five miles from the Nautilus.
"Ah!" exclaimed Ned Land, "if I was on board a whaler, now such a
meeting would give me pleasure. It is one of large size. See with
what strength its blow-holes throw up columns of air an steam!
Confound it, why am I bound to these steel plates?"
"What, Ned," said I, "you have not forgotten your old ideas of fishing?"
"Can a whale-fisher ever forget his old trade, sir? Can he ever tire
of the emotions caused by such a chase?"
"You have never fished in these seas, Ned?"
"Never, sir; in the northern only, and as much in Behring as in Davis
Straits."
"Then the southern whale is still unknown to you. It is the Greenland
whale you have hunted up to this time, and that would not risk passing
through the warm waters of the equator. Whales are localised,
according to their kinds, in certain seas which they never leave. And
if one of these creatures went from Behring to Davis Straits, it must
be simply because there is a passage from one sea to the other, either
on the American or the Asiatic side."
"In that case, as I have never fished in these seas, I do not know the
kind of whale frequenting them!"
"I have told you, Ned."
"A greater reason for making their acquaintance," said Conseil.
"Look! look!" exclaimed the Canadian, "they approach: they aggravate
me; they know that I cannot get at them!"
Ned stamped his feet. His hand trembled, as he grasped an imaginary
harpoon.
"Are these cetaceans as large as those of the northern seas?" asked he.
"Very nearly, Ned."
"Because I have seen large whales, sir, whales measuring a hundred
feet. I have even been told that those of Hullamoch and Umgallick, of
the Aleutian Islands, are sometimes a hundred and fifty feet long."
"That seems to me exaggeration. These creatures are only
balaeaopterons, provided with dorsal fins; and, like the cachalots, are
generally much smaller than the Greenland whale."
"Ah!" exclaimed the Canadian, whose eyes had never left the ocean,
"they are coming nearer; they are in the same water as the Nautilus."
Then, returning to the conversation, he said:
"You spoke of the cachalot as a small creature. I have heard of
gigantic ones. They are intelligent cetacea. It is said of some that
they cover themselves with seaweed and fucus, and then are taken for
islands. People encamp upon them, and settle there; lights a fire----"
"And build houses," said Conseil.
"Yes, joker," said Ned Land. "And one fine day the creature plunges,
carrying with it all the inhabitants to the bottom of the sea."
"Something like the travels of Sinbad the Sailor," I replied, laughing.
"Ah!" suddenly exclaimed Ned Land, "it is not one whale; there are
ten--there are twenty--it is a whole troop! And I not able to do
anything! hands and feet tied!"
"But, friend Ned," said Conseil, "why do you not ask Captain Nemo's
permission to chase them?"
Conseil had not finished his sentence when Ned Land had lowered himself
through the panel to seek the Captain. A few minutes afterwards the
two appeared together on the platform.
Captain Nemo watched the troop of cetacea playing on the waters about a
mile from the Nautilus.
"They are southern whales," said he; "there goes the fortune of a whole
fleet of whalers."
"Well, sir," asked the Canadian, "can I not chase them, if only to
remind me of my old trade of harpooner?"
"And to what purpose?" replied Captain Nemo; "only to destroy! We have
nothing to do with the whale-oil on board."
"But, sir," continued the Canadian, "in the Red Sea you allowed us to
follow the dugong."
"Then it was to procure fresh meat for my crew. Here it would be
killing for killing's sake. I know that is a privilege reserved for
man, but I do not approve of such murderous pastime. In destroying the
southern whale (like the Greenland whale, an inoffensive creature),
your traders do a culpable action, Master Land. They have already
depopulated the whole of Baffin's Bay, and are annihilating a class of
useful animals. Leave the unfortunate cetacea alone. They have plenty
of natural enemies--cachalots, swordfish, and sawfish--without you
troubling them."
The Captain was right. The barbarous and inconsiderate greed of these
fishermen will one day cause the disappearance of the last whale in the
ocean. Ned Land whistled "Yankee-doodle" between his teeth, thrust his
hands into his pockets, and turned his back upon us. But Captain Nemo
watched the troop of cetacea, and, addressing me, said:
"I was right in saying that whales had natural enemies enough, without
counting man. These will have plenty to do before long. Do you see,
M. Aronnax, about eight miles to leeward, those blackish moving points?"
"Yes, Captain," I replied.
"Those are cachalots--terrible animals, which I have met in troops of
two or three hundred. As to those, they are cruel, mischievous
creatures; they would be right in exterminating them."
The Canadian turned quickly at the last words.
"Well, Captain," said he, "it is still time, in the interest of the
whales."
"It is useless to expose one's self, Professor. The Nautilus will
disperse them. It is armed with a steel spur as good as Master Land's
harpoon, I imagine."
The Canadian did not put himself out enough to shrug his shoulders.
Attack cetacea with blows of a spur! Who had ever heard of such a
thing?
"Wait, M. Aronnax," said Captain Nemo. "We will show you something you
have never yet seen. We have no pity for these ferocious creatures.
They are nothing but mouth and teeth."
Mouth and teeth! No one could better describe the macrocephalous
cachalot, which is sometimes more than seventy-five feet long. Its
enormous head occupies one-third of its entire body. Better armed than
the whale, whose upper jaw is furnished only with whalebone, it is
supplied with twenty-five large tusks, about eight inches long,
cylindrical and conical at the top, each weighing two pounds. It is in
the upper part of this enormous head, in great cavities divided by
cartilages, that is to be found from six to eight hundred pounds of
that precious oil called spermaceti. The cachalot is a disagreeable
creature, more tadpole than fish, according to Fredol's description.
It is badly formed, the whole of its left side being (if we may say
it), a "failure," and being only able to see with its right eye. But
the formidable troop was nearing us. They had seen the whales and were
preparing to attack them. One could judge beforehand that the
cachalots would be victorious, not only because they were better built
for attack than their inoffensive adversaries, but also because they
could remain longer under water without coming to the surface. There
was only just time to go to the help of the whales. The Nautilus went
under water. Conseil, Ned Land, and I took our places before the
window in the saloon, and Captain Nemo joined the pilot in his cage to
work his apparatus as an engine of destruction. Soon I felt the
beatings of the screw quicken, and our speed increased. The battle
between the cachalots and the whales had already begun when the
Nautilus arrived. They did not at first show any fear at the sight of
this new monster joining in the conflict. But they soon had to guard
against its blows. What a battle! The Nautilus was nothing but a
formidable harpoon, brandished by the hand of its Captain. It hurled
itself against the fleshy mass, passing through from one part to the
other, leaving behind it two quivering halves of the animal. It could
not feel the formidable blows from their tails upon its sides, nor the
shock which it produced itself, much more. One cachalot killed, it ran
at the next, tacked on the spot that it might not miss its prey, going
forwards and backwards, answering to its helm, plunging when the
cetacean dived into the deep waters, coming up with it when it returned
to the surface, striking it front or sideways, cutting or tearing in
all directions and at any pace, piercing it with its terrible spur.
What carnage! What a noise on the surface of the waves! What sharp
hissing, and what snorting peculiar to these enraged animals! In the
midst of these waters, generally so peaceful, their tails made perfect
billows. For one hour this wholesale massacre continued, from which
the cachalots could not escape. Several times ten or twelve united
tried to crush the Nautilus by their weight. From the window we could
see their enormous mouths, studded with tusks, and their formidable
eyes. Ned Land could not contain himself; he threatened and swore at
them. We could feel them clinging to our vessel like dogs worrying a
wild boar in a copse. But the Nautilus, working its screw, carried
them here and there, or to the upper levels of the ocean, without
caring for their enormous weight, nor the powerful strain on the
vessel. At length the mass of cachalots broke up, the waves became
quiet, and I felt that we were rising to the surface. The panel
opened, and we hurried on to the platform. The sea was covered with
mutilated bodies. A formidable explosion could not have divided and
torn this fleshy mass with more violence. We were floating amid
gigantic bodies, bluish on the back and white underneath, covered with
enormous protuberances. Some terrified cachalots were flying towards
the horizon. The waves were dyed red for several miles, and the
Nautilus floated in a sea of blood: Captain Nemo joined us.
"Well, Master Land?" said he.
"Well, sir," replied the Canadian, whose enthusiasm had somewhat
calmed; "it is a terrible spectacle, certainly. But I am not a
butcher. I am a hunter, and I call this a butchery."
"It is a massacre of mischievous creatures," replied the Captain; "and
the Nautilus is not a butcher's knife."
"I like my harpoon better," said the Canadian.
"Every one to his own," answered the Captain, looking fixedly at Ned
Land.
I feared he would commit some act of violence, which would end in sad
consequences. But his anger was turned by the sight of a whale which
the Nautilus had just come up with. The creature had not quite escaped
from the cachalot's teeth. I recognised the southern whale by its flat
head, which is entirely black. Anatomically, it is distinguished from
the white whale and the North Cape whale by the seven cervical
vertebrae, and it has two more ribs than its congeners. The
unfortunate cetacean was lying on its side, riddled with holes from the
bites, and quite dead. From its mutilated fin still hung a young whale
which it could not save from the massacre. Its open mouth let the
water flow in and out, murmuring like the waves breaking on the shore.
Captain Nemo steered close to the corpse of the creature. Two of his
men mounted its side, and I saw, not without surprise, that they were
drawing from its breasts all the milk which they contained, that is to
say, about two or three tons. The Captain offered me a cup of the
milk, which was still warm. I could not help showing my repugnance to
the drink; but he assured me that it was excellent, and not to be
distinguished from cow's milk. I tasted it, and was of his opinion.
It was a useful reserve to us, for in the shape of salt butter or
cheese it would form an agreeable variety from our ordinary food. From
that day I noticed with uneasiness that Ned Land's ill-will towards
Captain Nemo increased, and I resolved to watch the Canadian's gestures
closely.
CHAPTER XIII
THE ICEBERG
The Nautilus was steadily pursuing its southerly course, following the
fiftieth meridian with considerable speed. Did he wish to reach the
pole? I did not think so, for every attempt to reach that point had
hitherto failed. Again, the season was far advanced, for in the
Antarctic regions the 13th of March corresponds with the 13th of
September of northern regions, which begin at the equinoctial season.
On the 14th of March I saw floating ice in latitude 55°, merely
pale bits of debris from twenty to twenty-five feet long, forming banks
over which the sea curled. The Nautilus remained on the surface of the
ocean. Ned Land, who had fished in the Arctic Seas, was familiar with
its icebergs; but Conseil and I admired them for the first time. In
the atmosphere towards the southern horizon stretched a white dazzling
band. English whalers have given it the name of "ice blink." However
thick the clouds may be, it is always visible, and announces the
presence of an ice pack or bank. Accordingly, larger blocks soon
appeared, whose brilliancy changed with the caprices of the fog. Some
of these masses showed green veins, as if long undulating lines had
been traced with sulphate of copper; others resembled enormous
amethysts with the light shining through them. Some reflected the
light of day upon a thousand crystal facets. Others shaded with vivid
calcareous reflections resembled a perfect town of marble. The more we
neared the south the more these floating islands increased both in
number and importance.
At 60° lat. every pass had disappeared. But, seeking carefully,
Captain Nemo soon found a narrow opening, through which he boldly
slipped, knowing, however, that it would close behind him. Thus,
guided by this clever hand, the Nautilus passed through all the ice
with a precision which quite charmed Conseil; icebergs or mountains,
ice-fields or smooth plains, seeming to have no limits, drift-ice or
floating ice-packs, plains broken up, called palchs when they are
circular, and streams when they are made up of long strips. The
temperature was very low; the thermometer exposed to the air marked 2
deg. or 3° below zero, but we were warmly clad with fur, at the
expense of the sea-bear and seal. The interior of the Nautilus, warmed
regularly by its electric apparatus, defied the most intense cold.
Besides, it would only have been necessary to go some yards beneath the
waves to find a more bearable temperature. Two months earlier we
should have had perpetual daylight in these latitudes; but already we
had had three or four hours of night, and by and by there would be six
months of darkness in these circumpolar regions. On the 15th of March
we were in the latitude of New Shetland and South Orkney. The Captain
told me that formerly numerous tribes of seals inhabited them; but that
English and American whalers, in their rage for destruction, massacred
both old and young; thus, where there was once life and animation, they
had left silence and death.
About eight o'clock on the morning of the 16th of March the Nautilus,
following the fifty-fifth meridian, cut the Antarctic polar circle.
Ice surrounded us on all sides, and closed the horizon. But Captain
Nemo went from one opening to another, still going higher. I cannot
express my astonishment at the beauties of these new regions. The ice
took most surprising forms. Here the grouping formed an oriental town,
with innumerable mosques and minarets; there a fallen city thrown to
the earth, as it were, by some convulsion of nature. The whole aspect
was constantly changed by the oblique rays of the sun, or lost in the
greyish fog amidst hurricanes of snow. Detonations and falls were
heard on all sides, great overthrows of icebergs, which altered the
whole landscape like a diorama. Often seeing no exit, I thought we
were definitely prisoners; but, instinct guiding him at the slightest
indication, Captain Nemo would discover a new pass. He was never
mistaken when he saw the thin threads of bluish water trickling along
the ice-fields; and I had no doubt that he had already ventured into
the midst of these Antarctic seas before. On the 16th of March,
however, the ice-fields absolutely blocked our road. It was not the
iceberg itself, as yet, but vast fields cemented by the cold. But this
obstacle could not stop Captain Nemo: he hurled himself against it with
frightful violence. The Nautilus entered the brittle mass like a
wedge, and split it with frightful crackings. It was the battering ram
of the ancients hurled by infinite strength. The ice, thrown high in
the air, fell like hail around us. By its own power of impulsion our
apparatus made a canal for itself; some times carried away by its own
impetus, it lodged on the ice-field, crushing it with its weight, and
sometimes buried beneath it, dividing it by a simple pitching movement,
producing large rents in it. Violent gales assailed us at this time,
accompanied by thick fogs, through which, from one end of the platform
to the other, we could see nothing. The wind blew sharply from all
parts of the compass, and the snow lay in such hard heaps that we had
to break it with blows of a pickaxe. The temperature was always at 5
deg. below zero; every outward part of the Nautilus was covered with
ice. A rigged vessel would have been entangled in the blocked up
gorges. A vessel without sails, with electricity for its motive power,
and wanting no coal, could alone brave such high latitudes. At length,
on the 18th of March, after many useless assaults, the Nautilus was
positively blocked. It was no longer either streams, packs, or
ice-fields, but an interminable and immovable barrier, formed by
mountains soldered together.
"An iceberg!" said the Canadian to me.
I knew that to Ned Land, as well as to all other navigators who had
preceded us, this was an inevitable obstacle. The sun appearing for an
instant at noon, Captain Nemo took an observation as near as possible,
which gave our situation at 51° 30' long. and 67° 39' of S.
lat. We had advanced one degree more in this Antarctic region. Of the
liquid surface of the sea there was no longer a glimpse. Under the
spur of the Nautilus lay stretched a vast plain, entangled with
confused blocks. Here and there sharp points and slender needles
rising to a height of 200 feet; further on a steep shore, hewn as it
were with an axe and clothed with greyish tints; huge mirrors,
reflecting a few rays of sunshine, half drowned in the fog. And over
this desolate face of nature a stern silence reigned, scarcely broken
by the flapping of the wings of petrels and puffins. Everything was
frozen--even the noise. The Nautilus was then obliged to stop in its
adventurous course amid these fields of ice. In spite of our efforts,
in spite of the powerful means employed to break up the ice, the
Nautilus remained immovable. Generally, when we can proceed no
further, we have return still open to us; but here return was as
impossible as advance, for every pass had closed behind us; and for the
few moments when we were stationary, we were likely to be entirely
blocked, which did indeed happen about two o'clock in the afternoon,
the fresh ice forming around its sides with astonishing rapidity. I
was obliged to admit that Captain Nemo was more than imprudent. I was
on the platform at that moment. The Captain had been observing our
situation for some time past, when he said to me:
"Well, sir, what do you think of this?"
"I think that we are caught, Captain."
"So, M. Aronnax, you really think that the Nautilus cannot disengage
itself?"
"With difficulty, Captain; for the season is already too far advanced
for you to reckon on the breaking of the ice."
"Ah! sir," said Captain Nemo, in an ironical tone, "you will always be
the same. You see nothing but difficulties and obstacles. I affirm
that not only can the Nautilus disengage itself, but also that it can
go further still."
"Further to the South?" I asked, looking at the Captain.
"Yes, sir; it shall go to the pole."
"To the pole!" I exclaimed, unable to repress a gesture of incredulity.
"Yes," replied the Captain, coldly, "to the Antarctic pole--to that
unknown point from whence springs every meridian of the globe. You
know whether I can do as I please with the Nautilus!"
Yes, I knew that. I knew that this man was bold, even to rashness.
But to conquer those obstacles which bristled round the South Pole,
rendering it more inaccessible than the North, which had not yet been
reached by the boldest navigators--was it not a mad enterprise, one
which only a maniac would have conceived? It then came into my head to
ask Captain Nemo if he had ever discovered that pole which had never
yet been trodden by a human creature?
"No, sir," he replied; "but we will discover it together. Where others
have failed, I will not fail. I have never yet led my Nautilus so far
into southern seas; but, I repeat, it shall go further yet."
"I can well believe you, Captain," said I, in a slightly ironical tone.
"I believe you! Let us go ahead! There are no obstacles for us! Let
us smash this iceberg! Let us blow it up; and, if it resists, let us
give the Nautilus wings to fly over it!"
"Over it, sir!" said Captain Nemo, quietly; "no, not over it, but under
it!"
"Under it!" I exclaimed, a sudden idea of the Captain's projects
flashing upon my mind. I understood; the wonderful qualities of the
Nautilus were going to serve us in this superhuman enterprise.
"I see we are beginning to understand one another, sir," said the
Captain, half smiling. "You begin to see the possibility--I should say
the success--of this attempt. That which is impossible for an ordinary
vessel is easy to the Nautilus. If a continent lies before the pole,
it must stop before the continent; but if, on the contrary, the pole is
washed by open sea, it will go even to the pole."
"Certainly," said I, carried away by the Captain's reasoning; "if the
surface of the sea is solidified by the ice, the lower depths are free
by the Providential law which has placed the maximum of density of the
waters of the ocean one degree higher than freezing-point; and, if I am
not mistaken, the portion of this iceberg which is above the water is
as one to four to that which is below."
"Very nearly, sir; for one foot of iceberg above the sea there are
three below it. If these ice mountains are not more than 300 feet
above the surface, they are not more than 900 beneath. And what are
900 feet to the Nautilus?"
"Nothing, sir."
"It could even seek at greater depths that uniform temperature of
sea-water, and there brave with impunity the thirty or forty degrees of
surface cold."
"Just so, sir--just so," I replied, getting animated.
"The only difficulty," continued Captain Nemo, "is that of remaining
several days without renewing our provision of air."
"Is that all? The Nautilus has vast reservoirs; we can fill them, and
they will supply us with all the oxygen we want."
"Well thought of, M. Aronnax," replied the Captain, smiling. "But, not
wishing you to accuse me of rashness, I will first give you all my
objections."
"Have you any more to make?"
"Only one. It is possible, if the sea exists at the South Pole, that
it may be covered; and, consequently, we shall be unable to come to the
surface."
"Good, sir! but do you forget that the Nautilus is armed with a
powerful spur, and could we not send it diagonally against these fields
of ice, which would open at the shocks."
"Ah! sir, you are full of ideas to-day."
"Besides, Captain," I added, enthusiastically, "why should we not find
the sea open at the South Pole as well as at the North? The frozen
poles of the earth do not coincide, either in the southern or in the
northern regions; and, until it is proved to the contrary, we may
suppose either a continent or an ocean free from ice at these two
points of the globe."
"I think so too, M. Aronnax," replied Captain Nemo. "I only wish you
to observe that, after having made so many objections to my project,
you are now crushing me with arguments in its favour!"
The preparations for this audacious attempt now began. The powerful
pumps of the Nautilus were working air into the reservoirs and storing
it at high pressure. About four o'clock, Captain Nemo announced the
closing of the panels on the platform. I threw one last look at the
massive iceberg which we were going to cross. The weather was clear,
the atmosphere pure enough, the cold very great, being 12° below
zero; but, the wind having gone down, this temperature was not so
unbearable. About ten men mounted the sides of the Nautilus, armed
with pickaxes to break the ice around the vessel, which was soon free.
The operation was quickly performed, for the fresh ice was still very
thin. We all went below. The usual reservoirs were filled with the
newly-liberated water, and the Nautilus soon descended. I had taken my
place with Conseil in the saloon; through the open window we could see
the lower beds of the Southern Ocean. The thermometer went up, the
needle of the compass deviated on the dial. At about 900 feet, as
Captain Nemo had foreseen, we were floating beneath the undulating
bottom of the iceberg. But the Nautilus went lower still--it went to
the depth of four hundred fathoms. The temperature of the water at the
surface showed twelve degrees, it was now only ten; we had gained two.
I need not say the temperature of the Nautilus was raised by its
heating apparatus to a much higher degree; every manoeuvre was
accomplished with wonderful precision.
"We shall pass it, if you please, sir," said Conseil.
"I believe we shall," I said, in a tone of firm conviction.
In this open sea, the Nautilus had taken its course direct to the pole,
without leaving the fifty-second meridian. From 67° 30' to 90
deg., twenty-two degrees and a half of latitude remained to travel;
that is, about five hundred leagues. The Nautilus kept up a mean speed
of twenty-six miles an hour--the speed of an express train. If that
was kept up, in forty hours we should reach the pole.
For a part of the night the novelty of the situation kept us at the
window. The sea was lit with the electric lantern; but it was
deserted; fishes did not sojourn in these imprisoned waters; they only
found there a passage to take them from the Antarctic Ocean to the open
polar sea. Our pace was rapid; we could feel it by the quivering of
the long steel body. About two in the morning I took some hours'
repose, and Conseil did the same. In crossing the waist I did not meet
Captain Nemo: I supposed him to be in the pilot's cage. The next
morning, the 19th of March, I took my post once more in the saloon.
The electric log told me that the speed of the Nautilus had been
slackened. It was then going towards the surface; but prudently
emptying its reservoirs very slowly. My heart beat fast. Were we
going to emerge and regain the open polar atmosphere? No! A shock
told me that the Nautilus had struck the bottom of the iceberg, still
very thick, judging from the deadened sound. We had in deed "struck,"
to use a sea expression, but in an inverse sense, and at a thousand
feet deep. This would give three thousand feet of ice above us; one
thousand being above the water-mark. The iceberg was then higher than
at its borders--not a very reassuring fact. Several times that day the
Nautilus tried again, and every time it struck the wall which lay like
a ceiling above it. Sometimes it met with but 900 yards, only 200 of
which rose above the surface. It was twice the height it was when the
Nautilus had gone under the waves. I carefully noted the different
depths, and thus obtained a submarine profile of the chain as it was
developed under the water. That night no change had taken place in our
situation. Still ice between four and five hundred yards in depth! It
was evidently diminishing, but, still, what a thickness between us and
the surface of the ocean! It was then eight. According to the daily
custom on board the Nautilus, its air should have been renewed four
hours ago; but I did not suffer much, although Captain Nemo had not yet
made any demand upon his reserve of oxygen. My sleep was painful that
night; hope and fear besieged me by turns: I rose several times. The
groping of the Nautilus continued. About three in the morning, I
noticed that the lower surface of the iceberg was only about fifty feet
deep. One hundred and fifty feet now separated us from the surface of
the waters. The iceberg was by degrees becoming an ice-field, the
mountain a plain. My eyes never left the manometer. We were still
rising diagonally to the surface, which sparkled under the electric
rays. The iceberg was stretching both above and beneath into
lengthening slopes; mile after mile it was getting thinner. At length,
at six in the morning of that memorable day, the 19th of March, the
door of the saloon opened, and Captain Nemo appeared.
"The sea is open!!" was all he said.
CHAPTER XIV
THE SOUTH POLE
I rushed on to the platform. Yes! the open sea, with but a few
scattered pieces of ice and moving icebergs--a long stretch of sea; a
world of birds in the air, and myriads of fishes under those waters,
which varied from intense blue to olive green, according to the bottom.
The thermometer marked 3° C. above zero. It was comparatively
spring, shut up as we were behind this iceberg, whose lengthened mass
was dimly seen on our northern horizon.
"Are we at the pole?" I asked the Captain, with a beating heart.
"I do not know," he replied. "At noon I will take our bearings."
"But will the sun show himself through this fog?" said I, looking at
the leaden sky.
"However little it shows, it will be enough," replied the Captain.
About ten miles south a solitary island rose to a height of one hundred
and four yards. We made for it, but carefully, for the sea might be
strewn with banks. One hour afterwards we had reached it, two hours
later we had made the round of it. It measured four or five miles in
circumference. A narrow canal separated it from a considerable stretch
of land, perhaps a continent, for we could not see its limits. The
existence of this land seemed to give some colour to Maury's theory.
The ingenious American has remarked that, between the South Pole and
the sixtieth parallel, the sea is covered with floating ice of enormous
size, which is never met with in the North Atlantic. From this fact he
has drawn the conclusion that the Antarctic Circle encloses
considerable continents, as icebergs cannot form in open sea, but only
on the coasts. According to these calculations, the mass of ice
surrounding the southern pole forms a vast cap, the circumference of
which must be, at least, 2,500 miles. But the Nautilus, for fear of
running aground, had stopped about three cable-lengths from a strand
over which reared a superb heap of rocks. The boat was launched; the
Captain, two of his men, bearing instruments, Conseil, and myself were
in it. It was ten in the morning. I had not seen Ned Land. Doubtless
the Canadian did not wish to admit the presence of the South Pole. A
few strokes of the oar brought us to the sand, where we ran ashore.
Conseil was going to jump on to the land, when I held him back.
"Sir," said I to Captain Nemo, "to you belongs the honour of first
setting foot on this land."
"Yes, sir," said the Captain, "and if I do not hesitate to tread this
South Pole, it is because, up to this time, no human being has left a
trace there."
Saying this, he jumped lightly on to the sand. His heart beat with
emotion. He climbed a rock, sloping to a little promontory, and there,
with his arms crossed, mute and motionless, and with an eager look, he
seemed to take possession of these southern regions. After five
minutes passed in this ecstasy, he turned to us.
"When you like, sir."
I landed, followed by Conseil, leaving the two men in the boat. For a
long way the soil was composed of a reddish sandy stone, something like
crushed brick, scoriae, streams of lava, and pumice-stones. One could
not mistake its volcanic origin. In some parts, slight curls of smoke
emitted a sulphurous smell, proving that the internal fires had lost
nothing of their expansive powers, though, having climbed a high
acclivity, I could see no volcano for a radius of several miles. We
know that in those Antarctic countries, James Ross found two craters,
the Erebus and Terror, in full activity, on the 167th meridian,
latitude 77° 32'. The vegetation of this desolate continent seemed
to me much restricted. Some lichens lay upon the black rocks; some
microscopic plants, rudimentary diatomas, a kind of cells placed
between two quartz shells; long purple and scarlet weed, supported on
little swimming bladders, which the breaking of the waves brought to
the shore. These constituted the meagre flora of this region. The
shore was strewn with molluscs, little mussels, and limpets. I also
saw myriads of northern clios, one-and-a-quarter inches long, of which
a whale would swallow a whole world at a mouthful; and some perfect
sea-butterflies, animating the waters on the skirts of the shore.
There appeared on the high bottoms some coral shrubs, of the kind
which, according to James Ross, live in the Antarctic seas to the depth
of more than 1,000 yards. Then there were little kingfishers and
starfish studding the soil. But where life abounded most was in the
air. There thousands of birds fluttered and flew of all kinds,
deafening us with their cries; others crowded the rock, looking at us
as we passed by without fear, and pressing familiarly close by our
feet. There were penguins, so agile in the water, heavy and awkward as
they are on the ground; they were uttering harsh cries, a large
assembly, sober in gesture, but extravagant in clamour. Albatrosses
passed in the air, the expanse of their wings being at least four yards
and a half, and justly called the vultures of the ocean; some gigantic
petrels, and some damiers, a kind of small duck, the underpart of whose
body is black and white; then there were a whole series of petrels,
some whitish, with brown-bordered wings, others blue, peculiar to the
Antarctic seas, and so oily, as I told Conseil, that the inhabitants of
the Ferroe Islands had nothing to do before lighting them but to put a
wick in.
"A little more," said Conseil, "and they would be perfect lamps! After
that, we cannot expect Nature to have previously furnished them with
wicks!"
About half a mile farther on the soil was riddled with ruffs' nests, a
sort of laying-ground, out of which many birds were issuing. Captain
Nemo had some hundreds hunted. They uttered a cry like the braying of
an ass, were about the size of a goose, slate-colour on the body, white
beneath, with a yellow line round their throats; they allowed
themselves to be killed with a stone, never trying to escape. But the
fog did not lift, and at eleven the sun had not yet shown itself. Its
absence made me uneasy. Without it no observations were possible.
How, then, could we decide whether we had reached the pole? When I
rejoined Captain Nemo, I found him leaning on a piece of rock, silently
watching the sky. He seemed impatient and vexed. But what was to be
done? This rash and powerful man could not command the sun as he did
the sea. Noon arrived without the orb of day showing itself for an
instant. We could not even tell its position behind the curtain of
fog; and soon the fog turned to snow.
"Till to-morrow," said the Captain, quietly, and we returned to the
Nautilus amid these atmospheric disturbances.
The tempest of snow continued till the next day. It was impossible to
remain on the platform. From the saloon, where I was taking notes of
incidents happening during this excursion to the polar continent, I
could hear the cries of petrels and albatrosses sporting in the midst
of this violent storm. The Nautilus did not remain motionless, but
skirted the coast, advancing ten miles more to the south in the
half-light left by the sun as it skirted the edge of the horizon. The
next day, the 20th of March, the snow had ceased. The cold was a
little greater, the thermometer showing 2° below zero. The fog
was rising, and I hoped that that day our observations might be taken.
Captain Nemo not having yet appeared, the boat took Conseil and myself
to land. The soil was still of the same volcanic nature; everywhere
were traces of lava, scoriae, and basalt; but the crater which had
vomited them I could not see. Here, as lower down, this continent was
alive with myriads of birds. But their rule was now divided with large
troops of sea-mammals, looking at us with their soft eyes. There were
several kinds of seals, some stretched on the earth, some on flakes of
ice, many going in and out of the sea. They did not flee at our
approach, never having had anything to do with man; and I reckoned that
there were provisions there for hundreds of vessels.
"Sir," said Conseil, "will you tell me the names of these creatures?"
"They are seals and morses."
It was now eight in the morning. Four hours remained to us before the
sun could be observed with advantage. I directed our steps towards a
vast bay cut in the steep granite shore. There, I can aver that earth
and ice were lost to sight by the numbers of sea-mammals covering them,
and I involuntarily sought for old Proteus, the mythological shepherd
who watched these immense flocks of Neptune. There were more seals
than anything else, forming distinct groups, male and female, the
father watching over his family, the mother suckling her little ones,
some already strong enough to go a few steps. When they wished to
change their place, they took little jumps, made by the contraction of
their bodies, and helped awkwardly enough by their imperfect fin,
which, as with the lamantin, their cousins, forms a perfect forearm. I
should say that, in the water, which is their element--the spine of
these creatures is flexible; with smooth and close skin and webbed
feet--they swim admirably. In resting on the earth they take the most
graceful attitudes. Thus the ancients, observing their soft and
expressive looks, which cannot be surpassed by the most beautiful look
a woman can give, their clear voluptuous eyes, their charming
positions, and the poetry of their manners, metamorphosed them, the
male into a triton and the female into a mermaid. I made Conseil
notice the considerable development of the lobes of the brain in these
interesting cetaceans. No mammal, except man, has such a quantity of
brain matter; they are also capable of receiving a certain amount of
education, are easily domesticated, and I think, with other
naturalists, that if properly taught they would be of great service as
fishing-dogs. The greater part of them slept on the rocks or on the
sand. Amongst these seals, properly so called, which have no external
ears (in which they differ from the otter, whose ears are prominent), I
noticed several varieties of seals about three yards long, with a white
coat, bulldog heads, armed with teeth in both jaws, four incisors at
the top and four at the bottom, and two large canine teeth in the shape
of a fleur-de-lis. Amongst them glided sea-elephants, a kind of seal,
with short, flexible trunks. The giants of this species measured
twenty feet round and ten yards and a half in length; but they did not
move as we approached.
"These creatures are not dangerous?" asked Conseil.
"No; not unless you attack them. When they have to defend their young
their rage is terrible, and it is not uncommon for them to break the
fishing-boats to pieces."
"They are quite right," said Conseil.
"I do not say they are not."
Two miles farther on we were stopped by the promontory which shelters
the bay from the southerly winds. Beyond it we heard loud bellowings
such as a troop of ruminants would produce.
"Good!" said Conseil; "a concert of bulls!"
"No; a concert of morses."
"They are fighting!"
"They are either fighting or playing."
We now began to climb the blackish rocks, amid unforeseen stumbles, and
over stones which the ice made slippery. More than once I rolled over
at the expense of my loins. Conseil, more prudent or more steady, did
not stumble, and helped me up, saying:
"If, sir, you would have the kindness to take wider steps, you would
preserve your equilibrium better."
Arrived at the upper ridge of the promontory, I saw a vast white plain
covered with morses. They were playing amongst themselves, and what we
heard were bellowings of pleasure, not of anger.
As I passed these curious animals I could examine them leisurely, for
they did not move. Their skins were thick and rugged, of a yellowish
tint, approaching to red; their hair was short and scant. Some of them
were four yards and a quarter long. Quieter and less timid than their
cousins of the north, they did not, like them, place sentinels round
the outskirts of their encampment. After examining this city of
morses, I began to think of returning. It was eleven o'clock, and, if
Captain Nemo found the conditions favourable for observations, I wished
to be present at the operation. We followed a narrow pathway running
along the summit of the steep shore. At half-past eleven we had
reached the place where we landed. The boat had run aground, bringing
the Captain. I saw him standing on a block of basalt, his instruments
near him, his eyes fixed on the northern horizon, near which the sun
was then describing a lengthened curve. I took my place beside him,
and waited without speaking. Noon arrived, and, as before, the sun did
not appear. It was a fatality. Observations were still wanting. If
not accomplished to-morrow, we must give up all idea of taking any. We
were indeed exactly at the 20th of March. To-morrow, the 21st, would
be the equinox; the sun would disappear behind the horizon for six
months, and with its disappearance the long polar night would begin.
Since the September equinox it had emerged from the northern horizon,
rising by lengthened spirals up to the 21st of December. At this
period, the summer solstice of the northern regions, it had begun to
descend; and to-morrow was to shed its last rays upon them. I
communicated my fears and observations to Captain Nemo.
"You are right, M. Aronnax," said he; "if to-morrow I cannot take the
altitude of the sun, I shall not be able to do it for six months. But
precisely because chance has led me into these seas on the 21st of
March, my bearings will be easy to take, if at twelve we can see the
sun."
"Why, Captain?"
"Because then the orb of day described such lengthened curves that it
is difficult to measure exactly its height above the horizon, and grave
errors may be made with instruments."
"What will you do then?"
"I shall only use my chronometer," replied Captain Nemo. "If
to-morrow, the 21st of March, the disc of the sun, allowing for
refraction, is exactly cut by the northern horizon, it will show that I
am at the South Pole."
"Just so," said I. "But this statement is not mathematically correct,
because the equinox does not necessarily begin at noon."
"Very likely, sir; but the error will not be a hundred yards and we do
not want more. Till to-morrow, then!"
Captain Nemo returned on board. Conseil and I remained to survey the
shore, observing and studying until five o'clock. Then I went to bed,
not, however, without invoking, like the Indian, the favour of the
radiant orb. The next day, the 21st of March, at five in the morning,
I mounted the platform. I found Captain Nemo there.
"The weather is lightening a little," said he. "I have some hope.
After breakfast we will go on shore and choose a post for observation."
That point settled, I sought Ned Land. I wanted to take him with me.
But the obstinate Canadian refused, and I saw that his taciturnity and
his bad humour grew day by day. After all, I was not sorry for his
obstinacy under the circumstances. Indeed, there were too many seals
on shore, and we ought not to lay such temptation in this unreflecting
fisherman's way. Breakfast over, we went on shore. The Nautilus had
gone some miles further up in the night. It was a whole league from
the coast, above which reared a sharp peak about five hundred yards
high. The boat took with me Captain Nemo, two men of the crew, and the
instruments, which consisted of a chronometer, a telescope, and a
barometer. While crossing, I saw numerous whales belonging to the
three kinds peculiar to the southern seas; the whale, or the English
"right whale," which has no dorsal fin; the "humpback," with reeved
chest and large, whitish fins, which, in spite of its name, do not form
wings; and the fin-back, of a yellowish brown, the liveliest of all the
cetacea. This powerful creature is heard a long way off when he throws
to a great height columns of air and vapour, which look like whirlwinds
of smoke. These different mammals were disporting themselves in troops
in the quiet waters; and I could see that this basin of the Antarctic
Pole serves as a place of refuge to the cetacea too closely tracked by
the hunters. I also noticed large medusae floating between the reeds.
At nine we landed; the sky was brightening, the clouds were flying to
the south, and the fog seemed to be leaving the cold surface of the
waters. Captain Nemo went towards the peak, which he doubtless meant
to be his observatory. It was a painful ascent over the sharp lava and
the pumice-stones, in an atmosphere often impregnated with a sulphurous
smell from the smoking cracks. For a man unaccustomed to walk on land,
the Captain climbed the steep slopes with an agility I never saw
equalled and which a hunter would have envied. We were two hours
getting to the summit of this peak, which was half porphyry and half
basalt. From thence we looked upon a vast sea which, towards the
north, distinctly traced its boundary line upon the sky. At our feet
lay fields of dazzling whiteness. Over our heads a pale azure, free
from fog. To the north the disc of the sun seemed like a ball of fire,
already horned by the cutting of the horizon. From the bosom of the
water rose sheaves of liquid jets by hundreds. In the distance lay the
Nautilus like a cetacean asleep on the water. Behind us, to the south
and east, an immense country and a chaotic heap of rocks and ice, the
limits of which were not visible. On arriving at the summit Captain
Nemo carefully took the mean height of the barometer, for he would have
to consider that in taking his observations. At a quarter to twelve
the sun, then seen only by refraction, looked like a golden disc
shedding its last rays upon this deserted continent and seas which
never man had yet ploughed. Captain Nemo, furnished with a lenticular
glass which, by means of a mirror, corrected the refraction, watched
the orb sinking below the horizon by degrees, following a lengthened
diagonal. I held the chronometer. My heart beat fast. If the
disappearance of the half-disc of the sun coincided with twelve o'clock
on the chronometer, we were at the pole itself.
"Twelve!" I exclaimed.
"The South Pole!" replied Captain Nemo, in a grave voice, handing me
the glass, which showed the orb cut in exactly equal parts by the
horizon.
I looked at the last rays crowning the peak, and the shadows mounting
by degrees up its slopes. At that moment Captain Nemo, resting with
his hand on my shoulder, said:
"I, Captain Nemo, on this 21st day of March, 1868, have reached the
South Pole on the ninetieth degree; and I take possession of this part
of the globe, equal to one-sixth of the known continents."
"In whose name, Captain?"
"In my own, sir!"
Saying which, Captain Nemo unfurled a black banner, bearing an "N" in
gold quartered on its bunting. Then, turning towards the orb of day,
whose last rays lapped the horizon of the sea, he exclaimed:
"Adieu, sun! Disappear, thou radiant orb! rest beneath this open sea,
and let a night of six months spread its shadows over my new domains!"
CHAPTER XV
ACCIDENT OR INCIDENT?
The next day, the 22nd of March, at six in the morning, preparations
for departure were begun. The last gleams of twilight were melting
into night. The cold was great, the constellations shone with
wonderful intensity. In the zenith glittered that wondrous Southern
Cross--the polar bear of Antarctic regions. The thermometer showed 120
below zero, and when the wind freshened it was most biting. Flakes of
ice increased on the open water. The sea seemed everywhere alike.
Numerous blackish patches spread on the surface, showing the formation
of fresh ice. Evidently the southern basin, frozen during the six
winter months, was absolutely inaccessible. What became of the whales
in that time? Doubtless they went beneath the icebergs, seeking more
practicable seas. As to the seals and morses, accustomed to live in a
hard climate, they remained on these icy shores. These creatures have
the instinct to break holes in the ice-field and to keep them open. To
these holes they come for breath; when the birds, driven away by the
cold, have emigrated to the north, these sea mammals remain sole
masters of the polar continent. But the reservoirs were filling with
water, and the Nautilus was slowly descending. At 1,000 feet deep it
stopped; its screw beat the waves, and it advanced straight towards the
north at a speed of fifteen miles an hour. Towards night it was
already floating under the immense body of the iceberg. At three in
the morning I was awakened by a violent shock. I sat up in my bed and
listened in the darkness, when I was thrown into the middle of the
room. The Nautilus, after having struck, had rebounded violently. I
groped along the partition, and by the staircase to the saloon, which
was lit by the luminous ceiling. The furniture was upset. Fortunately
the windows were firmly set, and had held fast. The pictures on the
starboard side, from being no longer vertical, were clinging to the
paper, whilst those of the port side were hanging at least a foot from
the wall. The Nautilus was lying on its starboard side perfectly
motionless. I heard footsteps, and a confusion of voices; but Captain
Nemo did not appear. As I was leaving the saloon, Ned Land and Conseil
entered.
"What is the matter?" said I, at once.
"I came to ask you, sir," replied Conseil.
"Confound it!" exclaimed the Canadian, "I know well enough! The
Nautilus has struck; and, judging by the way she lies, I do not think
she will right herself as she did the first time in Torres Straits."
"But," I asked, "has she at least come to the surface of the sea?"
"We do not know," said Conseil.
"It is easy to decide," I answered. I consulted the manometer. To my
great surprise, it showed a depth of more than 180 fathoms. "What does
that mean?" I exclaimed.
"We must ask Captain Nemo," said Conseil.
"But where shall we find him?" said Ned Land.
"Follow me," said I, to my companions.
We left the saloon. There was no one in the library. At the centre
staircase, by the berths of the ship's crew, there was no one. I
thought that Captain Nemo must be in the pilot's cage. It was best to
wait. We all returned to the saloon. For twenty minutes we remained
thus, trying to hear the slightest noise which might be made on board
the Nautilus, when Captain Nemo entered. He seemed not to see us; his
face, generally so impassive, showed signs of uneasiness. He watched
the compass silently, then the manometer; and, going to the
planisphere, placed his finger on a spot representing the southern
seas. I would not interrupt him; but, some minutes later, when he
turned towards me, I said, using one of his own expressions in the
Torres Straits:
"An incident, Captain?"
"No, sir; an accident this time."
"Serious?"
"Perhaps."
"Is the danger immediate?"
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