"No."
"The Nautilus has stranded?"
"Yes."
"And this has happened--how?"
"From a caprice of nature, not from the ignorance of man. Not a
mistake has been made in the working. But we cannot prevent
equilibrium from producing its effects. We may brave human laws, but
we cannot resist natural ones."
Captain Nemo had chosen a strange moment for uttering this
philosophical reflection. On the whole, his answer helped me little.
"May I ask, sir, the cause of this accident?"
"An enormous block of ice, a whole mountain, has turned over," he
replied. "When icebergs are undermined at their base by warmer water
or reiterated shocks their centre of gravity rises, and the whole thing
turns over. This is what has happened; one of these blocks, as it
fell, struck the Nautilus, then, gliding under its hull, raised it with
irresistible force, bringing it into beds which are not so thick, where
it is lying on its side."
"But can we not get the Nautilus off by emptying its reservoirs, that
it might regain its equilibrium?"
"That, sir, is being done at this moment. You can hear the pump
working. Look at the needle of the manometer; it shows that the
Nautilus is rising, but the block of ice is floating with it; and,
until some obstacle stops its ascending motion, our position cannot be
altered."
Indeed, the Nautilus still held the same position to starboard;
doubtless it would right itself when the block stopped. But at this
moment who knows if we may not be frightfully crushed between the two
glassy surfaces? I reflected on all the consequences of our position.
Captain Nemo never took his eyes off the manometer. Since the fall of
the iceberg, the Nautilus had risen about a hundred and fifty feet, but
it still made the same angle with the perpendicular. Suddenly a slight
movement was felt in the hold. Evidently it was righting a little.
Things hanging in the saloon were sensibly returning to their normal
position. The partitions were nearing the upright. No one spoke.
With beating hearts we watched and felt the straightening. The boards
became horizontal under our feet. Ten minutes passed.
"At last we have righted!" I exclaimed.
"Yes," said Captain Nemo, going to the door of the saloon.
"But are we floating?" I asked.
"Certainly," he replied; "since the reservoirs are not empty; and, when
empty, the Nautilus must rise to the surface of the sea."
We were in open sea; but at a distance of about ten yards, on either
side of the Nautilus, rose a dazzling wall of ice. Above and beneath
the same wall. Above, because the lower surface of the iceberg
stretched over us like an immense ceiling. Beneath, because the
overturned block, having slid by degrees, had found a resting-place on
the lateral walls, which kept it in that position. The Nautilus was
really imprisoned in a perfect tunnel of ice more than twenty yards in
breadth, filled with quiet water. It was easy to get out of it by
going either forward or backward, and then make a free passage under
the iceberg, some hundreds of yards deeper. The luminous ceiling had
been extinguished, but the saloon was still resplendent with intense
light. It was the powerful reflection from the glass partition sent
violently back to the sheets of the lantern. I cannot describe the
effect of the voltaic rays upon the great blocks so capriciously cut;
upon every angle, every ridge, every facet was thrown a different
light, according to the nature of the veins running through the ice; a
dazzling mine of gems, particularly of sapphires, their blue rays
crossing with the green of the emerald. Here and there were opal
shades of wonderful softness, running through bright spots like
diamonds of fire, the brilliancy of which the eye could not bear. The
power of the lantern seemed increased a hundredfold, like a lamp
through the lenticular plates of a first-class lighthouse.
"How beautiful! how beautiful!" cried Conseil.
"Yes," I said, "it is a wonderful sight. Is it not, Ned?"
"Yes, confound it! Yes," answered Ned Land, "it is superb! I am mad
at being obliged to admit it. No one has ever seen anything like it;
but the sight may cost us dear. And, if I must say all, I think we are
seeing here things which God never intended man to see."
Ned was right, it was too beautiful. Suddenly a cry from Conseil made
me turn.
"What is it?" I asked.
"Shut your eyes, sir! Do not look, sir!" Saying which, Conseil
clapped his hands over his eyes.
"But what is the matter, my boy?"
"I am dazzled, blinded."
My eyes turned involuntarily towards the glass, but I could not stand
the fire which seemed to devour them. I understood what had happened.
The Nautilus had put on full speed. All the quiet lustre of the
ice-walls was at once changed into flashes of lightning. The fire from
these myriads of diamonds was blinding. It required some time to calm
our troubled looks. At last the hands were taken down.
"Faith, I should never have believed it," said Conseil.
It was then five in the morning; and at that moment a shock was felt at
the bows of the Nautilus. I knew that its spur had struck a block of
ice. It must have been a false manoeuvre, for this submarine tunnel,
obstructed by blocks, was not very easy navigation. I thought that
Captain Nemo, by changing his course, would either turn these obstacles
or else follow the windings of the tunnel. In any case, the road
before us could not be entirely blocked. But, contrary to my
expectations, the Nautilus took a decided retrograde motion.
"We are going backwards?" said Conseil.
"Yes," I replied. "This end of the tunnel can have no egress."
"And then?"
"Then," said I, "the working is easy. We must go back again, and go
out at the southern opening. That is all."
In speaking thus, I wished to appear more confident than I really was.
But the retrograde motion of the Nautilus was increasing; and,
reversing the screw, it carried us at great speed.
"It will be a hindrance," said Ned.
"What does it matter, some hours more or less, provided we get out at
last?"
"Yes," repeated Ned Land, "provided we do get out at last!"
For a short time I walked from the saloon to the library. My
companions were silent. I soon threw myself on an ottoman, and took a
book, which my eyes overran mechanically. A quarter of an hour after,
Conseil, approaching me, said, "Is what you are reading very
interesting, sir?"
"Very interesting!" I replied.
"I should think so, sir. It is your own book you are reading."
"My book?"
And indeed I was holding in my hand the work on the Great Submarine
Depths. I did not even dream of it. I closed the book and returned to
my walk. Ned and Conseil rose to go.
"Stay here, my friends," said I, detaining them. "Let us remain
together until we are out of this block."
"As you please, sir," Conseil replied.
Some hours passed. I often looked at the instruments hanging from the
partition. The manometer showed that the Nautilus kept at a constant
depth of more than three hundred yards; the compass still pointed to
south; the log indicated a speed of twenty miles an hour, which, in
such a cramped space, was very great. But Captain Nemo knew that he
could not hasten too much, and that minutes were worth ages to us. At
twenty-five minutes past eight a second shock took place, this time
from behind. I turned pale. My companions were close by my side. I
seized Conseil's hand. Our looks expressed our feelings better than
words. At this moment the Captain entered the saloon. I went up to
him.
"Our course is barred southward?" I asked.
"Yes, sir. The iceberg has shifted and closed every outlet."
"We are blocked up then?"
"Yes."
CHAPTER XVI
WANT OF AIR
Thus around the Nautilus, above and below, was an impenetrable wall of
ice. We were prisoners to the iceberg. I watched the Captain. His
countenance had resumed its habitual imperturbability.
"Gentlemen," he said calmly, "there are two ways of dying in the
circumstances in which we are placed." (This puzzling person had the
air of a mathematical professor lecturing to his pupils.) "The first is
to be crushed; the second is to die of suffocation. I do not speak of
the possibility of dying of hunger, for the supply of provisions in the
Nautilus will certainly last longer than we shall. Let us, then,
calculate our chances."
"As to suffocation, Captain," I replied, "that is not to be feared,
because our reservoirs are full."
"Just so; but they will only yield two days' supply of air. Now, for
thirty-six hours we have been hidden under the water, and already the
heavy atmosphere of the Nautilus requires renewal. In forty-eight
hours our reserve will be exhausted."
"Well, Captain, can we be delivered before forty-eight hours?"
"We will attempt it, at least, by piercing the wall that surrounds us."
"On which side?"
"Sound will tell us. I am going to run the Nautilus aground on the
lower bank, and my men will attack the iceberg on the side that is
least thick."
Captain Nemo went out. Soon I discovered by a hissing noise that the
water was entering the reservoirs. The Nautilus sank slowly, and
rested on the ice at a depth of 350 yards, the depth at which the lower
bank was immersed.
"My friends," I said, "our situation is serious, but I rely on your
courage and energy."
"Sir," replied the Canadian, "I am ready to do anything for the general
safety."
"Good! Ned," and I held out my hand to the Canadian.
"I will add," he continued, "that, being as handy with the pickaxe as
with the harpoon, if I can be useful to the Captain, he can command my
services."
"He will not refuse your help. Come, Ned!"
I led him to the room where the crew of the Nautilus were putting on
their cork-jackets. I told the Captain of Ned's proposal, which he
accepted. The Canadian put on his sea-costume, and was ready as soon
as his companions. When Ned was dressed, I re-entered the
drawing-room, where the panes of glass were open, and, posted near
Conseil, I examined the ambient beds that supported the Nautilus. Some
instants after, we saw a dozen of the crew set foot on the bank of ice,
and among them Ned Land, easily known by his stature. Captain Nemo was
with them. Before proceeding to dig the walls, he took the soundings,
to be sure of working in the right direction. Long sounding lines were
sunk in the side walls, but after fifteen yards they were again stopped
by the thick wall. It was useless to attack it on the ceiling-like
surface, since the iceberg itself measured more than 400 yards in
height. Captain Nemo then sounded the lower surface. There ten yards
of wall separated us from the water, so great was the thickness of the
ice-field. It was necessary, therefore, to cut from it a piece equal in
extent to the waterline of the Nautilus. There were about 6,000 cubic
yards to detach, so as to dig a hole by which we could descend to the
ice-field. The work had begun immediately and carried on with
indefatigable energy. Instead of digging round the Nautilus which
would have involved greater difficulty, Captain Nemo had an immense
trench made at eight yards from the port-quarter. Then the men set to
work simultaneously with their screws on several points of its
circumference. Presently the pickaxe attacked this compact matter
vigorously, and large blocks were detached from the mass. By a curious
effect of specific gravity, these blocks, lighter than water, fled, so
to speak, to the vault of the tunnel, that increased in thickness at
the top in proportion as it diminished at the base. But that mattered
little, so long as the lower part grew thinner. After two hours' hard
work, Ned Land came in exhausted. He and his comrades were replaced by
new workers, whom Conseil and I joined. The second lieutenant of the
Nautilus superintended us. The water seemed singularly cold, but I
soon got warm handling the pickaxe. My movements were free enough,
although they were made under a pressure of thirty atmospheres. When I
re-entered, after working two hours, to take some food and rest, I
found a perceptible difference between the pure fluid with which the
Rouquayrol engine supplied me and the atmosphere of the Nautilus,
already charged with carbonic acid. The air had not been renewed for
forty-eight hours, and its vivifying qualities were considerably
enfeebled. However, after a lapse of twelve hours, we had only raised
a block of ice one yard thick, on the marked surface, which was about
600 cubic yards! Reckoning that it took twelve hours to accomplish
this much it would take five nights and four days to bring this
enterprise to a satisfactory conclusion. Five nights and four days!
And we have only air enough for two days in the reservoirs! "Without
taking into account," said Ned, "that, even if we get out of this
infernal prison, we shall also be imprisoned under the iceberg, shut
out from all possible communication with the atmosphere." True enough!
Who could then foresee the minimum of time necessary for our
deliverance? We might be suffocated before the Nautilus could regain
the surface of the waves? Was it destined to perish in this ice-tomb,
with all those it enclosed? The situation was terrible. But everyone
had looked the danger in the face, and each was determined to do his
duty to the last.
As I expected, during the night a new block a yard square was carried
away, and still further sank the immense hollow. But in the morning
when, dressed in my cork-jacket, I traversed the slushy mass at a
temperature of six or seven degrees below zero, I remarked that the
side walls were gradually closing in. The beds of water farthest from
the trench, that were not warmed by the men's work, showed a tendency
to solidification. In presence of this new and imminent danger, what
would become of our chances of safety, and how hinder the
solidification of this liquid medium, that would burst the partitions
of the Nautilus like glass?
I did not tell my companions of this new danger. What was the good of
damping the energy they displayed in the painful work of escape? But
when I went on board again, I told Captain Nemo of this grave
complication.
"I know it," he said, in that calm tone which could counteract the most
terrible apprehensions. "It is one danger more; but I see no way of
escaping it; the only chance of safety is to go quicker than
solidification. We must be beforehand with it, that is all."
On this day for several hours I used my pickaxe vigorously. The work
kept me up. Besides, to work was to quit the Nautilus, and breathe
directly the pure air drawn from the reservoirs, and supplied by our
apparatus, and to quit the impoverished and vitiated atmosphere.
Towards evening the trench was dug one yard deeper. When I returned on
board, I was nearly suffocated by the carbonic acid with which the air
was filled--ah! if we had only the chemical means to drive away this
deleterious gas. We had plenty of oxygen; all this water contained a
considerable quantity, and by dissolving it with our powerful piles, it
would restore the vivifying fluid. I had thought well over it; but of
what good was that, since the carbonic acid produced by our respiration
had invaded every part of the vessel? To absorb it, it was necessary
to fill some jars with caustic potash, and to shake them incessantly.
Now this substance was wanting on board, and nothing could replace it.
On that evening, Captain Nemo ought to open the taps of his reservoirs,
and let some pure air into the interior of the Nautilus; without this
precaution we could not get rid of the sense of suffocation. The next
day, March 26th, I resumed my miner's work in beginning the fifth yard.
The side walls and the lower surface of the iceberg thickened visibly.
It was evident that they would meet before the Nautilus was able to
disengage itself. Despair seized me for an instant; my pickaxe nearly
fell from my hands. What was the good of digging if I must be
suffocated, crushed by the water that was turning into stone?--a
punishment that the ferocity of the savages even would not have
invented! Just then Captain Nemo passed near me. I touched his hand
and showed him the walls of our prison. The wall to port had advanced
to at least four yards from the hull of the Nautilus. The Captain
understood me, and signed me to follow him. We went on board. I took
off my cork-jacket and accompanied him into the drawing-room.
"M. Aronnax, we must attempt some desperate means, or we shall be
sealed up in this solidified water as in cement."
"Yes; but what is to be done?"
"Ah! if my Nautilus were strong enough to bear this pressure without
being crushed!"
"Well?" I asked, not catching the Captain's idea.
"Do you not understand," he replied, "that this congelation of water
will help us? Do you not see that by its solidification, it would
burst through this field of ice that imprisons us, as, when it freezes,
it bursts the hardest stones? Do you not perceive that it would be an
agent of safety instead of destruction?"
"Yes, Captain, perhaps. But, whatever resistance to crushing the
Nautilus possesses, it could not support this terrible pressure, and
would be flattened like an iron plate."
"I know it, sir. Therefore we must not reckon on the aid of nature,
but on our own exertions. We must stop this solidification. Not only
will the side walls be pressed together; but there is not ten feet of
water before or behind the Nautilus. The congelation gains on us on
all sides."
"How long will the air in the reservoirs last for us to breathe on
board?"
The Captain looked in my face. "After to-morrow they will be empty!"
A cold sweat came over me. However, ought I to have been astonished at
the answer? On March 22, the Nautilus was in the open polar seas. We
were at 26°. For five days we had lived on the reserve on board.
And what was left of the respirable air must be kept for the workers.
Even now, as I write, my recollection is still so vivid that an
involuntary terror seizes me and my lungs seem to be without air.
Meanwhile, Captain Nemo reflected silently, and evidently an idea had
struck him; but he seemed to reject it. At last, these words escaped
his lips:
"Boiling water!" he muttered.
"Boiling water?" I cried.
"Yes, sir. We are enclosed in a space that is relatively confined.
Would not jets of boiling water, constantly injected by the pumps,
raise the temperature in this part and stay the congelation?"
"Let us try it," I said resolutely.
"Let us try it, Professor."
The thermometer then stood at 7° outside. Captain Nemo took me to
the galleys, where the vast distillatory machines stood that furnished
the drinkable water by evaporation. They filled these with water, and
all the electric heat from the piles was thrown through the worms
bathed in the liquid. In a few minutes this water reached 100°. It
was directed towards the pumps, while fresh water replaced it in
proportion. The heat developed by the troughs was such that cold
water, drawn up from the sea after only having gone through the
machines, came boiling into the body of the pump. The injection was
begun, and three hours after the thermometer marked 6° below zero
outside. One degree was gained. Two hours later the thermometer only
marked 4°.
"We shall succeed," I said to the Captain, after having anxiously
watched the result of the operation.
"I think," he answered, "that we shall not be crushed. We have no more
suffocation to fear."
During the night the temperature of the water rose to 1° below
zero. The injections could not carry it to a higher point. But, as
the congelation of the sea-water produces at least 2°, I was at
least reassured against the dangers of solidification.
The next day, March 27th, six yards of ice had been cleared, twelve
feet only remaining to be cleared away. There was yet forty-eight
hours' work. The air could not be renewed in the interior of the
Nautilus. And this day would make it worse. An intolerable weight
oppressed me. Towards three o'clock in the evening this feeling rose
to a violent degree. Yawns dislocated my jaws. My lungs panted as
they inhaled this burning fluid, which became rarefied more and more.
A moral torpor took hold of me. I was powerless, almost unconscious.
My brave Conseil, though exhibiting the same symptoms and suffering in
the same manner, never left me. He took my hand and encouraged me, and
I heard him murmur, "Oh! if I could only not breathe, so as to leave
more air for my master!"
Tears came into my eyes on hearing him speak thus. If our situation to
all was intolerable in the interior, with what haste and gladness would
we put on our cork-jackets to work in our turn! Pickaxes sounded on
the frozen ice-beds. Our arms ached, the skin was torn off our hands.
But what were these fatigues, what did the wounds matter? Vital air
came to the lungs! We breathed! we breathed!
All this time no one prolonged his voluntary task beyond the prescribed
time. His task accomplished, each one handed in turn to his panting
companions the apparatus that supplied him with life. Captain Nemo set
the example, and submitted first to this severe discipline. When the
time came, he gave up his apparatus to another and returned to the
vitiated air on board, calm, unflinching, unmurmuring.
On that day the ordinary work was accomplished with unusual vigour.
Only two yards remained to be raised from the surface. Two yards only
separated us from the open sea. But the reservoirs were nearly emptied
of air. The little that remained ought to be kept for the workers; not
a particle for the Nautilus. When I went back on board, I was half
suffocated. What a night! I know not how to describe it. The next
day my breathing was oppressed. Dizziness accompanied the pain in my
head and made me like a drunken man. My companions showed the same
symptoms. Some of the crew had rattling in the throat.
On that day, the sixth of our imprisonment, Captain Nemo, finding the
pickaxes work too slowly, resolved to crush the ice-bed that still
separated us from the liquid sheet. This man's coolness and energy
never forsook him. He subdued his physical pains by moral force.
By his orders the vessel was lightened, that is to say, raised from the
ice-bed by a change of specific gravity. When it floated they towed it
so as to bring it above the immense trench made on the level of the
water-line. Then, filling his reservoirs of water, he descended and
shut himself up in the hole.
Just then all the crew came on board, and the double door of
communication was shut. The Nautilus then rested on the bed of ice,
which was not one yard thick, and which the sounding leads had
perforated in a thousand places. The taps of the reservoirs were then
opened, and a hundred cubic yards of water was let in, increasing the
weight of the Nautilus to 1,800 tons. We waited, we listened,
forgetting our sufferings in hope. Our safety depended on this last
chance. Notwithstanding the buzzing in my head, I soon heard the
humming sound under the hull of the Nautilus. The ice cracked with a
singular noise, like tearing paper, and the Nautilus sank.
"We are off!" murmured Conseil in my ear.
I could not answer him. I seized his hand, and pressed it
convulsively. All at once, carried away by its frightful overcharge,
the Nautilus sank like a bullet under the waters, that is to say, it
fell as if it was in a vacuum. Then all the electric force was put on
the pumps, that soon began to let the water out of the reservoirs.
After some minutes, our fall was stopped. Soon, too, the manometer
indicated an ascending movement. The screw, going at full speed, made
the iron hull tremble to its very bolts and drew us towards the north.
But if this floating under the iceberg is to last another day before we
reach the open sea, I shall be dead first.
Half stretched upon a divan in the library, I was suffocating. My face
was purple, my lips blue, my faculties suspended. I neither saw nor
heard. All notion of time had gone from my mind. My muscles could not
contract. I do not know how many hours passed thus, but I was
conscious of the agony that was coming over me. I felt as if I was
going to die. Suddenly I came to. Some breaths of air penetrated my
lungs. Had we risen to the surface of the waves? Were we free of the
iceberg? No! Ned and Conseil, my two brave friends, were sacrificing
themselves to save me. Some particles of air still remained at the
bottom of one apparatus. Instead of using it, they had kept it for me,
and, while they were being suffocated, they gave me life, drop by drop.
I wanted to push back the thing; they held my hands, and for some
moments I breathed freely. I looked at the clock; it was eleven in the
morning. It ought to be the 28th of March. The Nautilus went at a
frightful pace, forty miles an hour. It literally tore through the
water. Where was Captain Nemo? Had he succumbed? Were his companions
dead with him? At the moment the manometer indicated that we were not
more than twenty feet from the surface. A mere plate of ice separated
us from the atmosphere. Could we not break it? Perhaps. In any case
the Nautilus was going to attempt it. I felt that it was in an oblique
position, lowering the stern, and raising the bows. The introduction
of water had been the means of disturbing its equilibrium. Then,
impelled by its powerful screw, it attacked the ice-field from beneath
like a formidable battering-ram. It broke it by backing and then
rushing forward against the field, which gradually gave way; and at
last, dashing suddenly against it, shot forwards on the ice-field, that
crushed beneath its weight. The panel was opened--one might say torn
off--and the pure air came in in abundance to all parts of the Nautilus.
CHAPTER XVII
FROM CAPE HORN TO THE AMAZON
How I got on to the platform, I have no idea; perhaps the Canadian had
carried me there. But I breathed, I inhaled the vivifying sea-air. My
two companions were getting drunk with the fresh particles. The other
unhappy men had been so long without food, that they could not with
impunity indulge in the simplest aliments that were given them. We, on
the contrary, had no end to restrain ourselves; we could draw this air
freely into our lungs, and it was the breeze, the breeze alone, that
filled us with this keen enjoyment.
"Ah!" said Conseil, "how delightful this oxygen is! Master need not
fear to breathe it. There is enough for everybody."
Ned Land did not speak, but he opened his jaws wide enough to frighten
a shark. Our strength soon returned, and, when I looked round me, I
saw we were alone on the platform. The foreign seamen in the Nautilus
were contented with the air that circulated in the interior; none of
them had come to drink in the open air.
The first words I spoke were words of gratitude and thankfulness to my
two companions. Ned and Conseil had prolonged my life during the last
hours of this long agony. All my gratitude could not repay such
devotion.
"My friends," said I, "we are bound one to the other for ever, and I am
under infinite obligations to you."
"Which I shall take advantage of," exclaimed the Canadian.
"What do you mean?" said Conseil.
"I mean that I shall take you with me when I leave this infernal
Nautilus."
"Well," said Conseil, "after all this, are we going right?"
"Yes," I replied, "for we are going the way of the sun, and here the
sun is in the north."
"No doubt," said Ned Land; "but it remains to be seen whether he will
bring the ship into the Pacific or the Atlantic Ocean, that is, into
frequented or deserted seas."
I could not answer that question, and I feared that Captain Nemo would
rather take us to the vast ocean that touches the coasts of Asia and
America at the same time. He would thus complete the tour round the
submarine world, and return to those waters in which the Nautilus could
sail freely. We ought, before long, to settle this important point.
The Nautilus went at a rapid pace. The polar circle was soon passed,
and the course shaped for Cape Horn. We were off the American point,
March 31st, at seven o'clock in the evening. Then all our past
sufferings were forgotten. The remembrance of that imprisonment in the
ice was effaced from our minds. We only thought of the future.
Captain Nemo did not appear again either in the drawing-room or on the
platform. The point shown each day on the planisphere, and, marked by
the lieutenant, showed me the exact direction of the Nautilus. Now, on
that evening, it was evident, to, my great satisfaction, that we were
going back to the North by the Atlantic. The next day, April 1st, when
the Nautilus ascended to the surface some minutes before noon, we
sighted land to the west. It was Terra del Fuego, which the first
navigators named thus from seeing the quantity of smoke that rose from
the natives' huts. The coast seemed low to me, but in the distance
rose high mountains. I even thought I had a glimpse of Mount
Sarmiento, that rises 2,070 yards above the level of the sea, with a
very pointed summit, which, according as it is misty or clear, is a
sign of fine or of wet weather. At this moment the peak was clearly
defined against the sky. The Nautilus, diving again under the water,
approached the coast, which was only some few miles off. From the
glass windows in the drawing-room, I saw long seaweeds and gigantic
fuci and varech, of which the open polar sea contains so many
specimens, with their sharp polished filaments; they measured about 300
yards in length--real cables, thicker than one's thumb; and, having
great tenacity, they are often used as ropes for vessels. Another weed
known as velp, with leaves four feet long, buried in the coral
concretions, hung at the bottom. It served as nest and food for
myriads of crustacea and molluscs, crabs, and cuttlefish. There seals
and otters had splendid repasts, eating the flesh of fish with
sea-vegetables, according to the English fashion. Over this fertile
and luxuriant ground the Nautilus passed with great rapidity. Towards
evening it approached the Falkland group, the rough summits of which I
recognised the following day. The depth of the sea was moderate. On
the shores our nets brought in beautiful specimens of sea weed, and
particularly a certain fucus, the roots of which were filled with the
best mussels in the world. Geese and ducks fell by dozens on the
platform, and soon took their places in the pantry on board.
When the last heights of the Falklands had disappeared from the
horizon, the Nautilus sank to between twenty and twenty-five yards, and
followed the American coast. Captain Nemo did not show himself. Until
the 3rd of April we did not quit the shores of Patagonia, sometimes
under the ocean, sometimes at the surface. The Nautilus passed beyond
the large estuary formed by the Uraguay. Its direction was northwards,
and followed the long windings of the coast of South America. We had
then made 1,600 miles since our embarkation in the seas of Japan.
About eleven o'clock in the morning the Tropic of Capricorn was crossed
on the thirty-seventh meridian, and we passed Cape Frio standing out to
sea. Captain Nemo, to Ned Land's great displeasure, did not like the
neighbourhood of the inhabited coasts of Brazil, for we went at a giddy
speed. Not a fish, not a bird of the swiftest kind could follow us,
and the natural curiosities of these seas escaped all observation.
This speed was kept up for several days, and in the evening of the 9th
of April we sighted the most westerly point of South America that forms
Cape San Roque. But then the Nautilus swerved again, and sought the
lowest depth of a submarine valley which is between this Cape and
Sierra Leone on the African coast. This valley bifurcates to the
parallel of the Antilles, and terminates at the mouth by the enormous
depression of 9,000 yards. In this place, the geological basin of the
ocean forms, as far as the Lesser Antilles, a cliff to three and a half
miles perpendicular in height, and, at the parallel of the Cape Verde
Islands, an other wall not less considerable, that encloses thus all
the sunk continent of the Atlantic. The bottom of this immense valley
is dotted with some mountains, that give to these submarine places a
picturesque aspect. I speak, moreover, from the manuscript charts that
were in the library of the Nautilus--charts evidently due to Captain
Nemo's hand, and made after his personal observations. For two days
the desert and deep waters were visited by means of the inclined
planes. The Nautilus was furnished with long diagonal broadsides which
carried it to all elevations. But on the 11th of April it rose
suddenly, and land appeared at the mouth of the Amazon River, a vast
estuary, the embouchure of which is so considerable that it freshens
the sea-water for the distance of several leagues.
The equator was crossed. Twenty miles to the west were the Guianas, a
French territory, on which we could have found an easy refuge; but a
stiff breeze was blowing, and the furious waves would not have allowed
a single boat to face them. Ned Land understood that, no doubt, for he
spoke not a word about it. For my part, I made no allusion to his
schemes of flight, for I would not urge him to make an attempt that
must inevitably fail. I made the time pass pleasantly by interesting
studies. During the days of April 11th and 12th, the Nautilus did not
leave the surface of the sea, and the net brought in a marvellous haul
of Zoophytes, fish and reptiles. Some zoophytes had been fished up by
the chain of the nets; they were for the most part beautiful
phyctallines, belonging to the actinidian family, and among other
species the phyctalis protexta, peculiar to that part of the ocean,
with a little cylindrical trunk, ornamented With vertical lines,
speckled with red dots, crowning a marvellous blossoming of tentacles.
As to the molluscs, they consisted of some I had already
observed--turritellas, olive porphyras, with regular lines
intercrossed, with red spots standing out plainly against the flesh;
odd pteroceras, like petrified scorpions; translucid hyaleas,
argonauts, cuttle-fish (excellent eating), and certain species of
calmars that naturalists of antiquity have classed amongst the
flying-fish, and that serve principally for bait for cod-fishing. I had
now an opportunity of studying several species of fish on these shores.
Amongst the cartilaginous ones, petromyzons-pricka, a sort of eel,
fifteen inches long, with a greenish head, violet fins, grey-blue back,
brown belly, silvered and sown with bright spots, the pupil of the eye
encircled with gold--a curious animal, that the current of the Amazon
had drawn to the sea, for they inhabit fresh waters--tuberculated
streaks, with pointed snouts, and a long loose tail, armed with a long
jagged sting; little sharks, a yard long, grey and whitish skin, and
several rows of teeth, bent back, that are generally known by the name
of pantouffles; vespertilios, a kind of red isosceles triangle, half a
yard long, to which pectorals are attached by fleshy prolongations that
make them look like bats, but that their horny appendage, situated near
the nostrils, has given them the name of sea-unicorns; lastly, some
species of balistae, the curassavian, whose spots were of a brilliant
gold colour, and the capriscus of clear violet, and with varying shades
like a pigeon's throat.
I end here this catalogue, which is somewhat dry perhaps, but very
exact, with a series of bony fish that I observed in passing belonging
to the apteronotes, and whose snout is white as snow, the body of a
beautiful black, marked with a very long loose fleshy strip;
odontognathes, armed with spikes; sardines nine inches long, glittering
with a bright silver light; a species of mackerel provided with two
anal fins; centronotes of a blackish tint, that are fished for with
torches, long fish, two yards in length, with fat flesh, white and
firm, which, when they arc fresh, taste like eel, and when dry, like
smoked salmon; labres, half red, covered with scales only at the bottom
of the dorsal and anal fins; chrysoptera, on which gold and silver
blend their brightness with that of the ruby and topaz; golden-tailed
spares, the flesh of which is extremely delicate, and whose
phosphorescent properties betray them in the midst of the waters;
orange-coloured spares with long tongues; maigres, with gold caudal
fins, dark thorn-tails, anableps of Surinam, etc.
Notwithstanding this "et cetera," I must not omit to mention fish that
Conseil will long remember, and with good reason. One of our nets had
hauled up a sort of very flat ray fish, which, with the tail cut off,
formed a perfect disc, and weighed twenty ounces. It was white
underneath, red above, with large round spots of dark blue encircled
with black, very glossy skin, terminating in a bilobed fin. Laid out on
the platform, it struggled, tried to turn itself by convulsive
movements, and made so many efforts, that one last turn had nearly sent
it into the sea. But Conseil, not wishing to let the fish go, rushed to
it, and, before I could prevent him, had seized it with both hands. In
a moment he was overthrown, his legs in the air, and half his body
paralysed, crying--
"Oh! master, master! help me!"
It was the first time the poor boy had spoken to me so familiarly. The
Canadian and I took him up, and rubbed his contracted arms till he
became sensible. The unfortunate Conseil had attacked a cramp-fish of
the most dangerous kind, the cumana. This odd animal, in a medium
conductor like water, strikes fish at several yards' distance, so great
is the power of its electric organ, the two principal surfaces of which
do not measure less than twenty-seven square feet. The next day, April
12th, the Nautilus approached the Dutch coast, near the mouth of the
Maroni. There several groups of sea-cows herded together; they were
manatees, that, like the dugong and the stellera, belong to the skenian
order. These beautiful animals, peaceable and inoffensive, from
eighteen to twenty-one feet in length, weigh at least sixteen
hundredweight. I told Ned Land and Conseil that provident nature had
assigned an important role to these mammalia. Indeed, they, like the
seals, are designed to graze on the submarine prairies, and thus
destroy the accumulation of weed that obstructs the tropical rivers.
"And do you know," I added, "what has been the result since men have
almost entirely annihilated this useful race? That the putrefied weeds
have poisoned the air, and the poisoned air causes the yellow fever,
that desolates these beautiful countries. Enormous vegetations are
multiplied under the torrid seas, and the evil is irresistibly
developed from the mouth of the Rio de la Plata to Florida. If we are
to believe Toussenel, this plague is nothing to what it would be if the
seas were cleaned of whales and seals. Then, infested with poulps,
medusae, and cuttle-fish, they would become immense centres of
infection, since their waves would not possess 'these vast stomachs
that God had charged to infest the surface of the seas.'"
CHAPTER XVIII
THE POULPS
For several days the Nautilus kept off from the American coast.
Evidently it did not wish to risk the tides of the Gulf of Mexico or of
the sea of the Antilles. April 16th, we sighted Martinique and
Guadaloupe from a distance of about thirty miles. I saw their tall
peaks for an instant. The Canadian, who counted on carrying out his
projects in the Gulf, by either landing or hailing one of the numerous
boats that coast from one island to another, was quite disheartened.
Flight would have been quite practicable, if Ned Land had been able to
take possession of the boat without the Captain's knowledge. But in
the open sea it could not be thought of. The Canadian, Conseil, and I
had a long conversation on this subject. For six months we had been
prisoners on board the Nautilus. We had travelled 17,000 leagues; and,
as Ned Land said, there was no reason why it should come to an end. We
could hope nothing from the Captain of the Nautilus, but only from
ourselves. Besides, for some time past he had become graver, more
retired, less sociable. He seemed to shun me. I met him rarely.
Formerly he was pleased to explain the submarine marvels to me; now he
left me to my studies, and came no more to the saloon. What change had
come over him? For what cause? For my part, I did not wish to bury
with me my curious and novel studies. I had now the power to write the
true book of the sea; and this book, sooner or later, I wished to see
daylight. The land nearest us was the archipelago of the Bahamas.
There rose high submarine cliffs covered with large weeds. It was
about eleven o'clock when Ned Land drew my attention to a formidable
pricking, like the sting of an ant, which was produced by means of
large seaweeds.
"Well," I said, "these are proper caverns for poulps, and I should not
be astonished to see some of these monsters."
"What!" said Conseil; "cuttlefish, real cuttlefish of the cephalopod
class?"
"No," I said, "poulps of huge dimensions."
"I will never believe that such animals exist," said Ned.
"Well," said Conseil, with the most serious air in the world, "I
remember perfectly to have seen a large vessel drawn under the waves by
an octopus's arm."
"You saw that?" said the Canadian.
"Yes, Ned."
"With your own eyes?"
"With my own eyes."
"Where, pray, might that be?"
"At St. Malo," answered Conseil.
"In the port?" said Ned, ironically.
"No; in a church," replied Conseil.
"In a church!" cried the Canadian.
"Yes; friend Ned. In a picture representing the poulp in question."
"Good!" said Ned Land, bursting out laughing.
"He is quite right," I said. "I have heard of this picture; but the
subject represented is taken from a legend, and you know what to think
of legends in the matter of natural history. Besides, when it is a
question of monsters, the imagination is apt to run wild. Not only is
it supposed that these poulps can draw down vessels, but a certain
Olaus Magnus speaks of an octopus a mile long that is more like an
island than an animal. It is also said that the Bishop of Nidros was
building an altar on an immense rock. Mass finished, the rock began to
walk, and returned to the sea. The rock was a poulp. Another Bishop,
Pontoppidan, speaks also of a poulp on which a regiment of cavalry
could manoeuvre. Lastly, the ancient naturalists speak of monsters
whose mouths were like gulfs, and which were too large to pass through
the Straits of Gibraltar."
"But how much is true of these stories?" asked Conseil.
"Nothing, my friends; at least of that which passes the limit of truth
to get to fable or legend. Nevertheless, there must be some ground for
the imagination of the story-tellers. One cannot deny that poulps and
cuttlefish exist of a large species, inferior, however, to the
cetaceans. Aristotle has stated the dimensions of a cuttlefish as five
cubits, or nine feet two inches. Our fishermen frequently see some
that are more than four feet long. Some skeletons of poulps are
preserved in the museums of Trieste and Montpelier, that measure two
yards in length. Besides, according to the calculations of some
naturalists, one of these animals only six feet long would have
tentacles twenty-seven feet long. That would suffice to make a
formidable monster."
"Do they fish for them in these days?" asked Ned.
"If they do not fish for them, sailors see them at least. One of my
friends, Captain Paul Bos of Havre, has often affirmed that he met one
of these monsters of colossal dimensions in the Indian seas. But the
most astonishing fact, and which does not permit of the denial of the
existence of these gigantic animals, happened some years ago, in 1861."
"What is the fact?" asked Ned Land.
"This is it. In 1861, to the north-east of Teneriffe, very nearly in
the same latitude we are in now, the crew of the despatch-boat Alector
perceived a monstrous cuttlefish swimming in the waters. Captain
Bouguer went near to the animal, and attacked it with harpoon and guns,
without much success, for balls and harpoons glided over the soft
flesh. After several fruitless attempts the crew tried to pass a
slip-knot round the body of the mollusc. The noose slipped as far as
the tail fins and there stopped. They tried then to haul it on board,
but its weight was so considerable that the tightness of the cord
separated the tail from the body, and, deprived of this ornament, he
disappeared under the water."
"Indeed! is that a fact?"
"An indisputable fact, my good Ned. They proposed to name this poulp
`Bouguer's cuttlefish.'"
"What length was it?" asked the Canadian.
"Did it not measure about six yards?" said Conseil, who, posted at the
window, was examining again the irregular windings of the cliff.
"Precisely," I replied.
"Its head," rejoined Conseil, "was it not crowned with eight tentacles,
that beat the water like a nest of serpents?"
"Precisely."
"Had not its eyes, placed at the back of its head, considerable
development?"
"Yes, Conseil."
"And was not its mouth like a parrot's beak?"
"Exactly, Conseil."
"Very well! no offence to master," he replied, quietly; "if this is not
Bouguer's cuttlefish, it is, at least, one of its brothers."
I looked at Conseil. Ned Land hurried to the window.
"What a horrible beast!" he cried.
I looked in my turn, and could not repress a gesture of disgust.
Before my eyes was a horrible monster worthy to figure in the legends
of the marvellous. It was an immense cuttlefish, being eight yards
long. It swam crossways in the direction of the Nautilus with great
speed, watching us with its enormous staring green eyes. Its eight
arms, or rather feet, fixed to its head, that have given the name of
cephalopod to these animals, were twice as long as its body, and were
twisted like the furies' hair. One could see the 250 air holes on the
inner side of the tentacles. The monster's mouth, a horned beak like a
parrot's, opened and shut vertically. Its tongue, a horned substance,
furnished with several rows of pointed teeth, came out quivering from
this veritable pair of shears. What a freak of nature, a bird's beak
on a mollusc! Its spindle-like body formed a fleshy mass that might
weigh 4,000 to 5,000 lb.; the, varying colour changing with great
rapidity, according to the irritation of the animal, passed
successively from livid grey to reddish brown. What irritated this
mollusc? No doubt the presence of the Nautilus, more formidable than
itself, and on which its suckers or its jaws had no hold. Yet, what
monsters these poulps are! what vitality the Creator has given them!
what vigour in their movements! and they possess three hearts! Chance
had brought us in presence of this cuttlefish, and I did not wish to
lose the opportunity of carefully studying this specimen of
cephalopods. I overcame the horror that inspired me, and, taking a
pencil, began to draw it.
"Perhaps this is the same which the Alector saw," said Conseil.
"No," replied the Canadian; "for this is whole, and the other had lost
its tail."
"That is no reason," I replied. "The arms and tails of these animals
are re-formed by renewal; and in seven years the tail of Bouguer's
cuttlefish has no doubt had time to grow."
By this time other poulps appeared at the port light. I counted seven.
They formed a procession after the Nautilus, and I heard their beaks
gnashing against the iron hull. I continued my work. These monsters
kept in the water with such precision that they seemed immovable.
Suddenly the Nautilus stopped. A shock made it tremble in every plate.
"Have we struck anything?" I asked.
"In any case," replied the Canadian, "we shall be free, for we are
floating."
The Nautilus was floating, no doubt, but it did not move. A minute
passed. Captain Nemo, followed by his lieutenant, entered the
drawing-room. I had not seen him for some time. He seemed dull.
Without noticing or speaking to us, he went to the panel, looked at the
poulps, and said something to his lieutenant. The latter went out.
Soon the panels were shut. The ceiling was lighted. I went towards
the Captain.
"A curious collection of poulps?" I said.
"Yes, indeed, Mr. Naturalist," he replied; "and we are going to fight
them, man to beast."
I looked at him. I thought I had not heard aright.
"Man to beast?" I repeated.
"Yes, sir. The screw is stopped. I think that the horny jaws of one
of the cuttlefish is entangled in the blades. That is what prevents
our moving."
"What are you going to do?"
"Rise to the surface, and slaughter this vermin."
"A difficult enterprise."
"Yes, indeed. The electric bullets are powerless against the soft
flesh, where they do not find resistance enough to go off. But we
shall attack them with the hatchet."
"And the harpoon, sir," said the Canadian, "if you do not refuse my
help."
"I will accept it, Master Land."
"We will follow you," I said, and, following Captain Nemo, we went
towards the central staircase.
There, about ten men with boarding-hatchets were ready for the attack.
Conseil and I took two hatchets; Ned Land seized a harpoon. The
Nautilus had then risen to the surface. One of the sailors, posted on
the top ladderstep, unscrewed the bolts of the panels. But hardly were
the screws loosed, when the panel rose with great violence, evidently
drawn by the suckers of a poulp's arm. Immediately one of these arms
slid like a serpent down the opening and twenty others were above.
With one blow of the axe, Captain Nemo cut this formidable tentacle,
that slid wriggling down the ladder. Just as we were pressing one on
the other to reach the platform, two other arms, lashing the air, came
down on the seaman placed before Captain Nemo, and lifted him up with
irresistible power. Captain Nemo uttered a cry, and rushed out. We
hurried after him.
What a scene! The unhappy man, seized by the tentacle and fixed to the
suckers, was balanced in the air at the caprice of this enormous trunk.
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351
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.
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.
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