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20,000 Leagues Under the Sea by Jules Verne

Part 5 out of 7

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and in some days I think you can act with security."

Ned Land still looked at me fixedly; at length his fixed lips parted,
and he said, "It is for to-night."

I drew myself up suddenly. I was, I admit, little prepared
for this communication. I wanted to answer the Canadian,
but words would not come.

"We agreed to wait for an opportunity," continued Ned Land,
"and the opportunity has arrived. This night we shall
be but a few miles from the Spanish coast. It is cloudy.
The wind blows freely. I have your word, M. Aronnax, and I
rely upon you."

As I was silent, the Canadian approached me.

"To-night, at nine o'clock," said he. "I have warned Conseil.
At that moment Captain Nemo will be shut up in his room, probably in bed.
Neither the engineers nor the ship's crew can see us.
Conseil and I will gain the central staircase, and you, M. Aronnax,
will remain in the library, two steps from us, waiting my signal.
The oars, the mast, and the sail are in the canoe. I have even succeeded
in getting some provisions. I have procured an English wrench,
to unfasten the bolts which attach it to the shell of the Nautilus.
So all is ready, till to-night."

"The sea is bad."

"That I allow," replied the Canadian; "but we must risk that.
Liberty is worth paying for; besides, the boat is strong,
and a few miles with a fair wind to carry us is no great thing.
Who knows but by to-morrow we may be a hundred leagues away?
Let circumstances only favour us, and by ten or eleven o'clock we
shall have landed on some spot of terra firma, alive or dead.
But adieu now till to-night."

With these words the Canadian withdrew, leaving me almost dumb.
I had imagined that, the chance gone, I should have time to
reflect and discuss the matter. My obstinate companion had given
me no time; and, after all, what could I have said to him?
Ned Land was perfectly right. There was almost the opportunity
to profit by. Could I retract my word, and take upon myself
the responsibility of compromising the future of my companions?
To-morrow Captain Nemo might take us far from all land.

At that moment a rather loud hissing noise told me that the reservoirs
were filling, and that the Nautilus was sinking under the waves
of the Atlantic.

A sad day I passed, between the desire of regaining my liberty
of action and of abandoning the wonderful Nautilus, and leaving
my submarine studies incomplete.

What dreadful hours I passed thus! Sometimes seeing myself and
companions safely landed, sometimes wishing, in spite of my reason,
that some unforeseen circumstance, would prevent the realisation
of Ned Land's project.

Twice I went to the saloon. I wished to consult the compass.
I wished to see if the direction the Nautilus was taking
was bringing us nearer or taking us farther from the coast.
But no; the Nautilus kept in Portuguese waters.

I must therefore take my part and prepare for flight.
My luggage was not heavy; my notes, nothing more.

As to Captain Nemo, I asked myself what he would think of our escape;
what trouble, what wrong it might cause him and what he might do in case
of its discovery or failure. Certainly I had no cause to complain of him;
on the contrary, never was hospitality freer than his. In leaving
him I could not be taxed with ingratitude. No oath bound us to him.
It was on the strength of circumstances he relied, and not upon our word,
to fix us for ever.

I had not seen the Captain since our visit to the Island of Santorin.
Would chance bring me to his presence before our departure?
I wished it, and I feared it at the same time. I listened if I could
hear him walking the room contiguous to mine. No sound reached my ear.
I felt an unbearable uneasiness. This day of waiting seemed eternal.
Hours struck too slowly to keep pace with my impatience.

My dinner was served in my room as usual. I ate but little;
I was too preoccupied. I left the table at seven o'clock. A
hundred and twenty minutes (I counted them) still separated
me from the moment in which I was to join Ned Land.
My agitation redoubled. My pulse beat violently.
I could not remain quiet. I went and came, hoping to calm
my troubled spirit by constant movement. The idea of failure
in our bold enterprise was the least painful of my anxieties;
but the thought of seeing our project discovered before
leaving the Nautilus, of being brought before Captain Nemo,
irritated, or (what was worse) saddened, at my desertion,
made my heart beat.

I wanted to see the saloon for the last time. I descended the stairs and
arrived in the museum, where I had passed so many useful and agreeable hours.
I looked at all its riches, all its treasures, like a man on the eve of an
eternal exile, who was leaving never to return.

These wonders of Nature, these masterpieces of art, amongst which for so many
days my life had been concentrated, I was going to abandon them for ever!
I should like to have taken a last look through the windows of the saloon into
the waters of the Atlantic: but the panels were hermetically closed, and a
cloak of steel separated me from that ocean which I had not yet explored.

In passing through the saloon, I came near the door let
into the angle which opened into the Captain's room.
To my great surprise, this door was ajar. I drew back involuntarily.
If Captain Nemo should be in his room, he could see me.
But, hearing no sound, I drew nearer. The room was deserted.
I pushed open the door and took some steps forward. Still the same
monklike severity of aspect.

Suddenly the clock struck eight. The first beat of the hammer on the bell
awoke me from my dreams. I trembled as if an invisible eye had plunged
into my most secret thoughts, and I hurried from the room.

There my eye fell upon the compass. Our course was still north.
The log indicated moderate speed, the manometer a depth of about sixty feet.

I returned to my room, clothed myself warmly--sea boots,
an otterskin cap, a great coat of byssus, lined with sealskin;
I was ready, I was waiting. The vibration of the screw
alone broke the deep silence which reigned on board.
I listened attentively. Would no loud voice suddenly inform
me that Ned Land had been surprised in his projected flight.
A mortal dread hung over me, and I vainly tried to regain
my accustomed coolness.

At a few minutes to nine, I put my ear to the Captain's door.
No noise. I left my room and returned to the saloon, which was half
in obscurity, but deserted.

I opened the door communicating with the library.
The same insufficient light, the same solitude.
I placed myself near the door leading to the central staircase,
and there waited for Ned Land's signal.

At that moment the trembling of the screw sensibly diminished,
then it stopped entirely. The silence was now only disturbed
by the beatings of my own heart. Suddenly a slight shock was felt;
and I knew that the Nautilus had stopped at the bottom of the ocean.
My uneasiness increased. The Canadian's signal did not come.
I felt inclined to join Ned Land and beg of him to put off his attempt.
I felt that we were not sailing under our usual conditions.

At this moment the door of the large saloon opened, and Captain
Nemo appeared. He saw me, and without further preamble began
in an amiable tone of voice:

"Ah, sir! I have been looking for you. Do you know the history of Spain?"

Now, one might know the history of one's own country by heart;
but in the condition I was at the time, with troubled mind
and head quite lost, I could not have said a word of it.

"Well," continued Captain Nemo, "you heard my question!
Do you know the history of Spain?"

"Very slightly," I answered.

"Well, here are learned men having to learn," said the Captain.
"Come, sit down, and I will tell you a curious episode in this history.
Sir, listen well," said he; "this history will interest you on one side,
for it will answer a question which doubtless you have not been
able to solve."

"I listen, Captain," said I, not knowing what my interlocutor was driving at,
and asking myself if this incident was bearing on our projected flight.

"Sir, if you have no objection, we will go back to 1702. You cannot
be ignorant that your king, Louis XIV, thinking that the gesture
of a potentate was sufficient to bring the Pyrenees under his yoke,
had imposed the Duke of Anjou, his grandson, on the Spaniards.
This prince reigned more or less badly under the name of Philip V,
and had a strong party against him abroad. Indeed, the preceding year,
the royal houses of Holland, Austria, and England had concluded
a treaty of alliance at the Hague, with the intention of plucking
the crown of Spain from the head of Philip V, and placing it
on that of an archduke to whom they prematurely gave the title
of Charles III.

"Spain must resist this coalition; but she was almost entirely unprovided
with either soldiers or sailors. However, money would not fail them,
provided that their galleons, laden with gold and silver from America,
once entered their ports. And about the end of 1702 they expected a rich
convoy which France was escorting with a fleet of twenty-three vessels,
commanded by Admiral Chateau-Renaud, for the ships of the coalition
were already beating the Atlantic. This convoy was to go to Cadiz,
but the Admiral, hearing that an English fleet was cruising in those waters,
resolved to make for a French port.

"The Spanish commanders of the convoy objected to this decision.
They wanted to be taken to a Spanish port, and, if not to Cadiz,
into Vigo Bay, situated on the northwest coast of Spain,
and which was not blocked.

"Admiral Chateau-Renaud had the rashness to obey this injunction,
and the galleons entered Vigo Bay.

"Unfortunately, it formed an open road which could not be
defended in any way. They must therefore hasten to unload
the galleons before the arrival of the combined fleet;
and time would not have failed them had not a miserable question
of rivalry suddenly arisen.

"You are following the chain of events?" asked Captain Nemo.

"Perfectly," said I, not knowing the end proposed by this historical lesson.

"I will continue. This is what passed. The merchants of Cadiz had
a privilege by which they had the right of receiving all merchandise
coming from the West Indies. Now, to disembark these ingots at the port
of Vigo was depriving them of their rights. They complained at Madrid,
and obtained the consent of the weak-minded Philip that the convoy,
without discharging its cargo, should remain sequestered in the roads
of Vigo until the enemy had disappeared.

"But whilst coming to this decision, on the 22nd of October,
1702, the English vessels arrived in Vigo Bay, when Admiral
Chateau-Renaud, in spite of inferior forces, fought bravely.
But, seeing that the treasure must fall into the enemy's hands,
he burnt and scuttled every galleon, which went to the bottom
with their immense riches."

Captain Nemo stopped. I admit I could not see yet why this history
should interest me.

"Well?" I asked.

"Well, M. Aronnax," replied Captain Nemo, "we are in that Vigo Bay;
and it rests with yourself whether you will penetrate its mysteries."

The Captain rose, telling me to follow him. I had had time to recover.
I obeyed. The saloon was dark, but through the transparent glass the waves
were sparkling. I looked.

For half a mile around the Nautilus, the waters seemed bathed
in electric light. The sandy bottom was clean and bright.
Some of the ship's crew in their diving-dresses were clearing away
half-rotten barrels and empty cases from the midst of the blackened wrecks.
From these cases and from these barrels escaped ingots of gold and silver,
cascades of piastres and jewels. The sand was heaped up with them.
Laden with their precious booty, the men returned to the Nautilus,
disposed of their burden, and went back to this inexhaustible fishery of
gold and silver.

I understood now. This was the scene of the battle of the 22nd
of October, 1702. Here on this very spot the galleons laden for the Spanish
Government had sunk. Here Captain Nemo came, according to his wants,
to pack up those millions with which he burdened the Nautilus.
It was for him and him alone America had given up her precious metals.
He was heir direct, without anyone to share, in those treasures torn
from the Incas and from the conquered of Ferdinand Cortez.

"Did you know, sir," he asked, smiling, "that the sea contained such riches?"

"I knew," I answered, "that they value money held in suspension
in these waters at two millions."

"Doubtless; but to extract this money the expense would be greater
than the profit. Here, on the contrary, I have but to pick up what man
has lost--and not only in Vigo Bay, but in a thousand other ports where
shipwrecks have happened, and which are marked on my submarine map.
Can you understand now the source of the millions I am worth?"

"I understand, Captain. But allow me to tell you that in exploring
Vigo Bay you have only been beforehand with a rival society."

"And which?"

"A society which has received from the Spanish Government
the privilege of seeking those buried galleons.
The shareholders are led on by the allurement of an enormous bounty,
for they value these rich shipwrecks at five hundred millions."

"Five hundred millions they were," answered Captain Nemo,
"but they are so no longer."

"Just so," said I; "and a warning to those shareholders would be
an act of charity. But who knows if it would be well received?
What gamblers usually regret above all is less the loss
of their money than of their foolish hopes. After all,
I pity them less than the thousands of unfortunates to whom
so much riches well-distributed would have been profitable,
whilst for them they will be for ever barren."

I had no sooner expressed this regret than I felt that it must
have wounded Captain Nemo.

"Barren!" he exclaimed, with animation. "Do you think then,
sir, that these riches are lost because I gather them?
Is it for myself alone, according to your idea, that I take
the trouble to collect these treasures? Who told you that I
did not make a good use of it? Do you think I am ignorant
that there are suffering beings and oppressed races on
this earth, miserable creatures to console, victims to avenge?
Do you not understand?"

Captain Nemo stopped at these last words, regretting perhaps
that he had spoken so much. But I had guessed that,
whatever the motive which had forced him to seek independence
under the sea, it had left him still a man, that his heart
still beat for the sufferings of humanity, and that his immense
charity was for oppressed races as well as individuals.
And I then understood for whom those millions were destined
which were forwarded by Captain Nemo when the Nautilus was cruising
in the waters of Crete.



The next morning, the 19th of February, I saw the Canadian enter my room.
I expected this visit. He looked very disappointed.

"Well, sir?" said he.

"Well, Ned, fortune was against us yesterday."

"Yes; that Captain must needs stop exactly at the hour we intended
leaving his vessel."

"Yes, Ned, he had business at his bankers."

"His bankers!"

"Or rather his banking-house; by that I mean the ocean,
where his riches are safer than in the chests of the State."

I then related to the Canadian the incidents of the preceding night,
hoping to bring him back to the idea of not abandoning the Captain;
but my recital had no other result than an energetically expressed regret
from Ned that he had not been able to take a walk on the battlefield
of Vigo on his own account.

"However," said he, "all is not ended. It is only a blow
of the harpoon lost. Another time we must succeed;
and to-night, if necessary----"

"In what direction is the Nautilus going?" I asked.

"I do not know," replied Ned.

"Well, at noon we shall see the point."

The Canadian returned to Conseil. As soon as I was dressed,
I went into the saloon. The compass was not reassuring.
The course of the Nautilus was S.S.W. We were turning our
backs on Europe.

I waited with some impatience till the ship's place was pricked
on the chart. At about half-past eleven the reservoirs
were emptied, and our vessel rose to the surface of the ocean.
I rushed towards the platform. Ned Land had preceded me.
No more land in sight. Nothing but an immense sea.
Some sails on the horizon, doubtless those going to San Roque
in search of favourable winds for doubling the Cape of Good Hope.
The weather was cloudy. A gale of wind was preparing.
Ned raved, and tried to pierce the cloudy horizon.
He still hoped that behind all that fog stretched the land he so
longed for.

At noon the sun showed itself for an instant. The second profited by this
brightness to take its height. Then, the sea becoming more billowy,
we descended, and the panel closed.

An hour after, upon consulting the chart, I saw the position
of the Nautilus was marked at 16@ 17' long., and 33@ 22'
lat., at 150 leagues from the nearest coast. There was no means
of flight, and I leave you to imagine the rage of the Canadian
when I informed him of our situation.

For myself, I was not particularly sorry. I felt lightened
of the load which had oppressed me, and was able to return
with some degree of calmness to my accustomed work.

That night, about eleven o'clock, I received a most unexpected
visit from Captain Nemo. He asked me very graciously
if I felt fatigued from my watch of the preceding night.
I answered in the negative.

"Then, M. Aronnax, I propose a curious excursion."

"Propose, Captain?"

"You have hitherto only visited the submarine depths by daylight,
under the brightness of the sun. Would it suit you to see them
in the darkness of the night?"

"Most willingly."

"I warn you, the way will be tiring. We shall have far to walk,
and must climb a mountain. The roads are not well kept."

"What you say, Captain, only heightens my curiosity;
I am ready to follow you."

"Come then, sir, we will put on our diving-dresses."

Arrived at the robing-room, I saw that neither of my companions
nor any of the ship's crew were to follow us on this excursion.
Captain Nemo had not even proposed my taking with me either
Ned or Conseil.

In a few moments we had put on our diving-dresses; they placed
on our backs the reservoirs, abundantly filled with air,
but no electric lamps were prepared. I called the Captain's
attention to the fact.

"They will be useless," he replied.

I thought I had not heard aright, but I could not repeat my observation,
for the Captain's head had already disappeared in its metal case.
I finished harnessing myself. I felt them put an iron-pointed stick
into my hand, and some minutes later, after going through the usual form,
we set foot on the bottom of the Atlantic at a depth of 150 fathoms.
Midnight was near. The waters were profoundly dark, but Captain Nemo
pointed out in the distance a reddish spot, a sort of large light shining
brilliantly about two miles from the Nautilus. What this fire might be,
what could feed it, why and how it lit up the liquid mass, I could not say.
In any case, it did light our way, vaguely, it is true, but I soon accustomed
myself to the peculiar darkness, and I understood, under such circumstances,
the uselessness of the Ruhmkorff apparatus.

As we advanced, I heard a kind of pattering above my head.
The noise redoubling, sometimes producing a continual shower,
I soon understood the cause. It was rain falling violently,
and crisping the surface of the waves. Instinctively the
thought flashed across my mind that I should be wet through!
By the water! in the midst of the water! I could not help
laughing at the odd idea. But, indeed, in the thick diving-dress,
the liquid element is no longer felt, and one only seems to be
in an atmosphere somewhat denser than the terrestrial atmosphere.
Nothing more.

After half an hour's walk the soil became stony.
Medusae, microscopic crustacea, and pennatules lit it slightly
with their phosphorescent gleam. I caught a glimpse of pieces
of stone covered with millions of zoophytes and masses of sea weed.
My feet often slipped upon this sticky carpet of sea weed,
and without my iron-tipped stick I should have fallen more than once.
In turning round, I could still see the whitish lantern of the
Nautilus beginning to pale in the distance.

But the rosy light which guided us increased and lit up the horizon.
The presence of this fire under water puzzled me in the highest degree.
Was I going towards a natural phenomenon as yet unknown to the savants
of the earth? Or even (for this thought crossed my brain) had the hand
of man aught to do with this conflagration? Had he fanned this flame?
Was I to meet in these depths companions and friends of Captain Nemo whom
he was going to visit, and who, like him, led this strange existence?
Should I find down there a whole colony of exiles who, weary of the miseries
of this earth, had sought and found independence in the deep ocean?
All these foolish and unreasonable ideas pursued me. And in this condition
of mind, over-excited by the succession of wonders continually passing before
my eyes, I should not have been surprised to meet at the bottom of the sea one
of those submarine towns of which Captain Nemo dreamed.

Our road grew lighter and lighter. The white glimmer came in rays
from the summit of a mountain about 800 feet high. But what I saw
was simply a reflection, developed by the clearness of the waters.
The source of this inexplicable light was a fire on the opposite side
of the mountain.

In the midst of this stony maze furrowing the bottom of the Atlantic,
Captain Nemo advanced without hesitation. He knew this dreary road.
Doubtless he had often travelled over it, and could not lose himself.
I followed him with unshaken confidence. He seemed to me like a genie of
the sea; and, as he walked before me, I could not help admiring his stature,
which was outlined in black on the luminous horizon.

It was one in the morning when we arrived at the first slopes of the mountain;
but to gain access to them we must venture through the difficult paths
of a vast copse.

Yes; a copse of dead trees, without leaves, without sap,
trees petrified by the action of the water and here and there
overtopped by gigantic pines. It was like a coal-pit still standing,
holding by the roots to the broken soil, and whose branches, like fine
black paper cuttings, showed distinctly on the watery ceiling.
Picture to yourself a forest in the Hartz hanging on to the sides
of the mountain, but a forest swallowed up. The paths were
encumbered with seaweed and fucus, between which grovelled
a whole world of crustacea. I went along, climbing the rocks,
striding over extended trunks, breaking the sea bind-weed which hung
from one tree to the other; and frightening the fishes, which flew
from branch to branch. Pressing onward, I felt no fatigue.
I followed my guide, who was never tired. What a spectacle!
How can I express it? how paint the aspect of those woods and
rocks in this medium--their under parts dark and wild, the upper
coloured with red tints, by that light which the reflecting powers
of the waters doubled? We climbed rocks which fell directly
after with gigantic bounds and the low growling of an avalanche.
To right and left ran long, dark galleries, where sight was lost.
Here opened vast glades which the hand of man seemed to have worked;
and I sometimes asked myself if some inhabitant of these submarine
regions would not suddenly appear to me.

But Captain Nemo was still mounting. I could not stay behind.
I followed boldly. My stick gave me good help. A false step would
have been dangerous on the narrow passes sloping down to the sides
of the gulfs; but I walked with firm step, without feeling
any giddiness. Now I jumped a crevice, the depth of which would
have made me hesitate had it been among the glaciers on the land;
now I ventured on the unsteady trunk of a tree thrown across
from one abyss to the other, without looking under my feet,
having only eyes to admire the wild sites of this region.

There, monumental rocks, leaning on their regularly-cut bases, seemed to defy
all laws of equilibrium. From between their stony knees trees sprang,
like a jet under heavy pressure, and upheld others which upheld them.
Natural towers, large scarps, cut perpendicularly, like a "curtain," inclined
at an angle which the laws of gravitation could never have tolerated
in terrestrial regions.

Two hours after quitting the Nautilus we had crossed the line of trees,
and a hundred feet above our heads rose the top of the mountain,
which cast a shadow on the brilliant irradiation of the opposite slope.
Some petrified shrubs ran fantastically here and there. Fishes got up
under our feet like birds in the long grass. The massive rocks were
rent with impenetrable fractures, deep grottos, and unfathomable holes,
at the bottom of which formidable creatures might be heard moving.
My blood curdled when I saw enormous antennae blocking my road,
or some frightful claw closing with a noise in the shadow of some cavity.
Millions of luminous spots shone brightly in the midst of the darkness.
They were the eyes of giant crustacea crouched in their holes;
giant lobsters setting themselves up like halberdiers, and moving
their claws with the clicking sound of pincers; titanic crabs,
pointed like a gun on its carriage; and frightful-looking poulps,
interweaving their tentacles like a living nest of serpents.

We had now arrived on the first platform, where other surprises awaited me.
Before us lay some picturesque ruins, which betrayed the hand of man
and not that of the Creator. There were vast heaps of stone,
amongst which might be traced the vague and shadowy forms of castles
and temples, clothed with a world of blossoming zoophytes, and over which,
instead of ivy, sea-weed and fucus threw a thick vegetable mantle. But what
was this portion of the globe which had been swallowed by cataclysms?
Who had placed those rocks and stones like cromlechs of prehistoric times?
Where was I? Whither had Captain Nemo's fancy hurried me?

I would fain have asked him; not being able to, I stopped him--
I seized his arm. But, shaking his head, and pointing to the highest
point of the mountain, he seemed to say:

"Come, come along; come higher!"

I followed, and in a few minutes I had climbed to the top,
which for a circle of ten yards commanded the whole mass of rock.

I looked down the side we had just climbed. The mountain did
not rise more than seven or eight hundred feet above the level
of the plain; but on the opposite side it commanded from
twice that height the depths of this part of the Atlantic.
My eyes ranged far over a large space lit by a violent fulguration.
In fact, the mountain was a volcano.

At fifty feet above the peak, in the midst of a rain of stones
and scoriae, a large crater was vomiting forth torrents of lava
which fell in a cascade of fire into the bosom of the liquid mass.
Thus situated, this volcano lit the lower plain like an
immense torch, even to the extreme limits of the horizon.
I said that the submarine crater threw up lava, but no flames.
Flames require the oxygen of the air to feed upon and cannot be
developed under water; but streams of lava, having in themselves
the principles of their incandescence, can attain a white heat,
fight vigorously against the liquid element, and turn it to
vapour by contact.

Rapid currents bearing all these gases in diffusion and torrents
of lava slid to the bottom of the mountain like an eruption
of Vesuvius on another Terra del Greco.

There indeed under my eyes, ruined, destroyed, lay a town--
its roofs open to the sky, its temples fallen, its arches dislocated,
its columns lying on the ground, from which one would still
recognise the massive character of Tuscan architecture.
Further on, some remains of a gigantic aqueduct; here the high
base of an Acropolis, with the floating outline of a Parthenon;
there traces of a quay, as if an ancient port had formerly
abutted on the borders of the ocean, and disappeared with
its merchant vessels and its war-galleys. Farther on again,
long lines of sunken walls and broad, deserted streets--
a perfect Pompeii escaped beneath the waters. Such was the sight
that Captain Nemo brought before my eyes!

Where was I? Where was I? I must know at any cost.
I tried to speak, but Captain Nemo stopped me by a gesture,
and, picking up a piece of chalk-stone, advanced to a rock
of black basalt, and traced the one word:


What a light shot through my mind! Atlantis! the Atlantis
of Plato, that continent denied by Origen and Humbolt,
who placed its disappearance amongst the legendary tales.
I had it there now before my eyes, bearing upon it
the unexceptionable testimony of its catastrophe.
The region thus engulfed was beyond Europe, Asia, and Lybia,
beyond the columns of Hercules, where those powerful people,
the Atlantides, lived, against whom the first wars of ancient
Greeks were waged.

Thus, led by the strangest destiny, I was treading under foot
the mountains of this continent, touching with my hand those ruins
a thousand generations old and contemporary with the geological epochs.
I was walking on the very spot where the contemporaries of the first
man had walked.

Whilst I was trying to fix in my mind every detail of this
grand landscape, Captain Nemo remained motionless,
as if petrified in mute ecstasy, leaning on a mossy stone.
Was he dreaming of those generations long since disappeared?
Was he asking them the secret of human destiny? Was it here this
strange man came to steep himself in historical recollections,
and live again this ancient life--he who wanted no modern one?
What would I not have given to know his thoughts, to share them,
to understand them! We remained for an hour at this place,
contemplating the vast plains under the brightness of the lava,
which was some times wonderfully intense. Rapid tremblings ran
along the mountain caused by internal bubblings, deep noise,
distinctly transmitted through the liquid medium were echoed
with majestic grandeur. At this moment the moon appeared through
the mass of waters and threw her pale rays on the buried continent.
It was but a gleam, but what an indescribable effect!
The Captain rose, cast one last look on the immense plain,
and then bade me follow him.

We descended the mountain rapidly, and, the mineral forest
once passed, I saw the lantern of the Nautilus shining like a star.
The Captain walked straight to it, and we got on board as the first
rays of light whitened the surface of the ocean.



The next day, the 20th of February, I awoke very late: the fatigues
of the previous night had prolonged my sleep until eleven o'clock. I
dressed quickly, and hastened to find the course the Nautilus was taking.
The instruments showed it to be still toward the south, with a speed of
twenty miles an hour and a depth of fifty fathoms.

The species of fishes here did not differ much from those already noticed.
There were rays of giant size, five yards long, and endowed with great
muscular strength, which enabled them to shoot above the waves;
sharks of many kinds; amongst others, one fifteen feet long,
with triangular sharp teeth, and whose transparency rendered it almost
invisible in the water.

Amongst bony fish Conseil noticed some about three yards long, armed at
the upper jaw with a piercing sword; other bright-coloured creatures,
known in the time of Aristotle by the name of the sea-dragon, which are
dangerous to capture on account of the spikes on their back.

About four o'clock, the soil, generally composed of a thick mud mixed with
petrified wood, changed by degrees, and it became more stony, and seemed
strewn with conglomerate and pieces of basalt, with a sprinkling of lava.
I thought that a mountainous region was succeeding the long plains;
and accordingly, after a few evolutions of the Nautilus, I saw the southerly
horizon blocked by a high wall which seemed to close all exit.
Its summit evidently passed the level of the ocean. It must be a continent,
or at least an island--one of the Canaries, or of the Cape Verde Islands.
The bearings not being yet taken, perhaps designedly, I was ignorant
of our exact position. In any case, such a wall seemed to me to mark
the limits of that Atlantis, of which we had in reality passed over only
the smallest part.

Much longer should I have remained at the window admiring
the beauties of sea and sky, but the panels closed. At this moment
the Nautilus arrived at the side of this high, perpendicular wall.
What it would do, I could not guess. I returned to my room;
it no longer moved. I laid myself down with the full intention
of waking after a few hours' sleep; but it was eight o'clock
the next day when I entered the saloon. I looked at the manometer.
It told me that the Nautilus was floating on the surface of the ocean.
Besides, I heard steps on the platform. I went to the panel.
It was open; but, instead of broad daylight, as I expected,
I was surrounded by profound darkness. Where were we?
Was I mistaken? Was it still night? No; not a star was shining
and night has not that utter darkness.

I knew not what to think, when a voice near me said:

"Is that you, Professor?"

"Ah! Captain," I answered, "where are we?"

"Underground, sir."

"Underground!" I exclaimed. "And the Nautilus floating still?"

"It always floats."

"But I do not understand."

"Wait a few minutes, our lantern will be lit, and, if you like light places,
you will be satisfied."

I stood on the platform and waited. The darkness was so complete
that I could not even see Captain Nemo; but, looking to the zenith,
exactly above my head, I seemed to catch an undecided gleam,
a kind of twilight filling a circular hole. At this instant
the lantern was lit, and its vividness dispelled the faint light.
I closed my dazzled eyes for an instant, and then looked again.
The Nautilus was stationary, floating near a mountain which formed
a sort of quay. The lake, then, supporting it was a lake
imprisoned by a circle of walls, measuring two miles in diameter
and six in circumference. Its level (the manometer showed)
could only be the same as the outside level, for there must
necessarily be a communication between the lake and the sea.
The high partitions, leaning forward on their base, grew into
a vaulted roof bearing the shape of an immense funnel turned
upside down, the height being about five or six hundred yards.
At the summit was a circular orifice, by which I had caught the slight
gleam of light, evidently daylight.

"Where are we?" I asked.

"In the very heart of an extinct volcano, the interior of which has
been invaded by the sea, after some great convulsion of the earth.
Whilst you were sleeping, Professor, the Nautilus penetrated
to this lagoon by a natural canal, which opens about ten yards
beneath the surface of the ocean. This is its harbour of refuge,
a sure, commodious, and mysterious one, sheltered from all gales.
Show me, if you can, on the coasts of any of your continents or islands,
a road which can give such perfect refuge from all storms."

"Certainly," I replied, "you are in safety here, Captain Nemo.
Who could reach you in the heart of a volcano? But did I not see
an opening at its summit?"

"Yes; its crater, formerly filled with lava, vapour, and flames,
and which now gives entrance to the life-giving air we breathe."

"But what is this volcanic mountain?"

"It belongs to one of the numerous islands with which this sea
is strewn--to vessels a simple sandbank--to us an immense cavern.
Chance led me to discover it, and chance served me well."

"But of what use is this refuge, Captain? The Nautilus wants no port."

"No, sir; but it wants electricity to make it move, and the wherewithal
to make the electricity--sodium to feed the elements, coal from
which to get the sodium, and a coal-mine to supply the coal.
And exactly on this spot the sea covers entire forests embedded during
the geological periods, now mineralised and transformed into coal;
for me they are an inexhaustible mine."

"Your men follow the trade of miners here, then, Captain?"

"Exactly so. These mines extend under the waves like the mines of Newcastle.
Here, in their diving-dresses, pick axe and shovel in hand, my men
extract the coal, which I do not even ask from the mines of the earth.
When I burn this combustible for the manufacture of sodium, the smoke,
escaping from the crater of the mountain, gives it the appearance of
a still-active volcano."

"And we shall see your companions at work?"

"No; not this time at least; for I am in a hurry to continue
our submarine tour of the earth. So I shall content myself
with drawing from the reserve of sodium I already possess.
The time for loading is one day only, and we continue our voyage.
So, if you wish to go over the cavern and make the round of
the lagoon, you must take advantage of to-day, M. Aronnax."

I thanked the Captain and went to look for my companions, who had not yet
left their cabin. I invited them to follow me without saying where we were.
They mounted the platform. Conseil, who was astonished at nothing,
seemed to look upon it as quite natural that he should wake under
a mountain, after having fallen asleep under the waves. But Ned Land
thought of nothing but finding whether the cavern had any exit.
After breakfast, about ten o'clock, we went down on to the mountain.

"Here we are, once more on land," said Conseil.

"I do not call this land," said the Canadian. "And besides,
we are not on it, but beneath it."

Between the walls of the mountains and the waters of the lake lay a sandy
shore which, at its greatest breadth, measured five hundred feet.
On this soil one might easily make the tour of the lake. But the base
of the high partitions was stony ground, with volcanic locks and enormous
pumice-stones lying in picturesque heaps. All these detached masses,
covered with enamel, polished by the action of the subterraneous fires,
shone resplendent by the light of our electric lantern. The mica dust
from the shore, rising under our feet, flew like a cloud of sparks.
The bottom now rose sensibly, and we soon arrived at long circuitous slopes,
or inclined planes, which took us higher by degrees; but we were obliged
to walk carefully among these conglomerates, bound by no cement, the feet
slipping on the glassy crystal, felspar, and quartz.

The volcanic nature of this enormous excavation was confirmed on all sides,
and I pointed it out to my companions.

"Picture to yourselves," said I, "what this crater must
have been when filled with boiling lava, and when the level
of the incandescent liquid rose to the orifice of the mountain,
as though melted on the top of a hot plate."

"I can picture it perfectly," said Conseil. "But, sir,
will you tell me why the Great Architect has suspended operations,
and how it is that the furnace is replaced by the quiet waters
of the lake?"

"Most probably, Conseil, because some convulsion beneath the ocean produced
that very opening which has served as a passage for the Nautilus.
Then the waters of the Atlantic rushed into the interior of the mountain.
There must have been a terrible struggle between the two elements, a struggle
which ended in the victory of Neptune. But many ages have run out since then,
and the submerged volcano is now a peaceable grotto."

"Very well," replied Ned Land; "I accept the explanation, sir; but, in our
own interests, I regret that the opening of which you speak was not made
above the level of the sea."

"But, friend Ned," said Conseil, "if the passage had not been under the sea,
the Nautilus could not have gone through it."

We continued ascending. The steps became more and more perpendicular
and narrow. Deep excavations, which we were obliged to cross,
cut them here and there; sloping masses had to be turned.
We slid upon our knees and crawled along. But Conseil's
dexterity and the Canadian's strength surmounted all obstacles.
At a height of about 31 feet the nature of the ground changed
without becoming more practicable. To the conglomerate and trachyte
succeeded black basalt, the first dispread in layers full of bubbles,
the latter forming regular prisms, placed like a colonnade
supporting the spring of the immense vault, an admirable specimen
of natural architecture. Between the blocks of basalt wound long
streams of lava, long since grown cold, encrusted with bituminous rays;
and in some places there were spread large carpets of sulphur.
A more powerful light shone through the upper crater, shedding a
vague glimmer over these volcanic depressions for ever buried
in the bosom of this extinguished mountain. But our upward march
was soon stopped at a height of about two hundred and fifty feet
by impassable obstacles. There was a complete vaulted arch
overhanging us, and our ascent was changed to a circular walk.
At the last change vegetable life began to struggle with the mineral.
Some shrubs, and even some trees, grew from the fractures of the walls.
I recognised some euphorbias, with the caustic sugar coming
from them; heliotropes, quite incapable of justifying their name,
sadly drooped their clusters of flowers, both their colour
and perfume half gone. Here and there some chrysanthemums grew
timidly at the foot of an aloe with long, sickly-looking leaves.
But between the streams of lava, I saw some little violets still
slightly perfumed, and I admit that I smelt them with delight.
Perfume is the soul of the flower, and sea-flowers have no soul.

We had arrived at the foot of some sturdy dragon-trees,
which had pushed aside the rocks with their strong roots,
when Ned Land exclaimed:

"Ah! sir, a hive! a hive!"

"A hive!" I replied, with a gesture of incredulity.

"Yes, a hive," repeated the Canadian, "and bees humming round it."

I approached, and was bound to believe my own eyes. There at a hole bored
in one of the dragon-trees were some thousands of these ingenious insects,
so common in all the Canaries, and whose produce is so much esteemed.
Naturally enough, the Canadian wished to gather the honey, and I could
not well oppose his wish. A quantity of dry leaves, mixed with sulphur,
he lit with a spark from his flint, and he began to smoke out the bees.
The humming ceased by degrees, and the hive eventually yielded several pounds
of the sweetest honey, with which Ned Land filled his haversack.

"When I have mixed this honey with the paste of the bread-fruit,"
said he, "I shall be able to offer you a succulent cake."

[Transcriber's Note: 'bread-fruit' has been substituted for
'artocarpus' in this ed.]

"'Pon my word," said Conseil, "it will be gingerbread."

"Never mind the gingerbread," said I; "let us continue our interesting

At every turn of the path we were following, the lake appeared
in all its length and breadth. The lantern lit up the whole
of its peaceable surface, which knew neither ripple nor wave.
The Nautilus remained perfectly immovable. On the platform,
and on the mountain, the ship's crew were working like black
shadows clearly carved against the luminous atmosphere.
We were now going round the highest crest of the first layers of rock
which upheld the roof. I then saw that bees were not the only
representatives of the animal kingdom in the interior of this volcano.
Birds of prey hovered here and there in the shadows, or fled from
their nests on the top of the rocks. There were sparrow hawks,
with white breasts, and kestrels, and down the slopes scampered,
with their long legs, several fine fat bustards. I leave anyone
to imagine the covetousness of the Canadian at the sight of this
savoury game, and whether he did not regret having no gun.
But he did his best to replace the lead by stones, and, after several
fruitless attempts, he succeeded in wounding a magnificent bird.
To say that he risked his life twenty times before reaching
it is but the truth; but he managed so well that the creature
joined the honey-cakes in his bag. We were now obliged to
descend toward the shore, the crest becoming impracticable.
Above us the crater seemed to gape like the mouth of a well.
From this place the sky could be clearly seen, and clouds,
dissipated by the west wind, leaving behind them, even on the summit
of the mountain, their misty remnants--certain proof that they
were only moderately high, for the volcano did not rise more than
eight hundred feet above the level of the ocean. Half an hour
after the Canadian's last exploit we had regained the inner shore.
Here the flora was represented by large carpets of marine crystal,
a little umbelliferous plant very good to pickle, which also bears the name
of pierce-stone and sea-fennel. Conseil gathered some bundles of it.
As to the fauna, it might be counted by thousands of crustacea
of all sorts, lobsters, crabs, spider-crabs, chameleon shrimps,
and a large number of shells, rockfish, and limpets. Three-quarters of
an hour later we had finished our circuitous walk and were on board.
The crew had just finished loading the sodium, and the Nautilus
could have left that instant. But Captain Nemo gave no order.
Did he wish to wait until night, and leave the submarine passage secretly?
Perhaps so. Whatever it might be, the next day, the Nautilus,
having left its port, steered clear of all land at a few yards beneath
the waves of the Atlantic.



That day the Nautilus crossed a singular part of the Atlantic Ocean.
No one can be ignorant of the existence of a current of warm
water known by the name of the Gulf Stream. After leaving
the Gulf of Florida, we went in the direction of Spitzbergen.
But before entering the Gulf of Mexico, about 45@ of N. lat., this
current divides into two arms, the principal one going towards
the coast of Ireland and Norway, whilst the second bends to the south
about the height of the Azores; then, touching the African shore,
and describing a lengthened oval, returns to the Antilles.
This second arm--it is rather a collar than an arm--surrounds with its
circles of warm water that portion of the cold, quiet, immovable ocean
called the Sargasso Sea, a perfect lake in the open Atlantic:
it takes no less than three years for the great current to pass round it.
Such was the region the Nautilus was now visiting, a perfect meadow,
a close carpet of seaweed, fucus, and tropical berries, so thick and so
compact that the stem of a vessel could hardly tear its way through it.
And Captain Nemo, not wishing to entangle his screw in this herbaceous mass,
kept some yards beneath the surface of the waves. The name Sargasso
comes from the Spanish word "sargazzo" which signifies kelp.
This kelp, or berry-plant, is the principal formation of this immense bank.
And this is the reason why these plants unite in the peaceful basin
of the Atlantic. The only explanation which can be given, he says,
seems to me to result from the experience known to all the world.
Place in a vase some fragments of cork or other floating body,
and give to the water in the vase a circular movement,
the scattered fragments will unite in a group in the centre of
the liquid surface, that is to say, in the part least agitated.
In the phenomenon we are considering, the Atlantic is the vase,
the Gulf Stream the circular current, and the Sargasso Sea the central
point at which the floating bodies unite.

I share Maury's opinion, and I was able to study the phenomenon
in the very midst, where vessels rarely penetrate. Above us floated
products of all kinds, heaped up among these brownish plants;
trunks of trees torn from the Andes or the Rocky Mountains, and floated
by the Amazon or the Mississippi; numerous wrecks, remains of keels,
or ships' bottoms, side-planks stove in, and so weighted with shells
and barnacles that they could not again rise to the surface.
And time will one day justify Maury's other opinion, that these
substances thus accumulated for ages will become petrified by
the action of the water and will then form inexhaustible coal-mines--
a precious reserve prepared by far-seeing Nature for the moment
when men shall have exhausted the mines of continents.

In the midst of this inextricable mass of plants and sea weed,
I noticed some charming pink halcyons and actiniae, with their long
tentacles trailing after them, and medusae, green, red, and blue.

All the day of the 22nd of February we passed in the Sargasso Sea,
where such fish as are partial to marine plants find abundant nourishment.
The next, the ocean had returned to its accustomed aspect.
From this time for nineteen days, from the 23rd of February to the 12th
of March, the Nautilus kept in the middle of the Atlantic, carrying us
at a constant speed of a hundred leagues in twenty-four hours.
Captain Nemo evidently intended accomplishing his submarine programme,
and I imagined that he intended, after doubling Cape Horn, to return
to the Australian seas of the Pacific. Ned Land had cause for fear.
In these large seas, void of islands, we could not attempt to leave
the boat. Nor had we any means of opposing Captain Nemo's will.
Our only course was to submit; but what we could neither gain by force
nor cunning, I liked to think might be obtained by persuasion.
This voyage ended, would he not consent to restore our liberty,
under an oath never to reveal his existence?--an oath of honour which we
should have religiously kept. But we must consider that delicate
question with the Captain. But was I free to claim this liberty?
Had he not himself said from the beginning, in the firmest manner,
that the secret of his life exacted from him our lasting imprisonment
on board the Nautilus? And would not my four months' silence appear
to him a tacit acceptance of our situation? And would not a return
to the subject result in raising suspicions which might be hurtful
to our projects, if at some future time a favourable opportunity offered
to return to them?

During the nineteen days mentioned above, no incident
of any kind happened to signalise our voyage. I saw little
of the Captain; he was at work. In the library I often found
his books left open, especially those on natural history.
My work on submarine depths, conned over by him, was covered
with marginal notes, often contradicting my theories and systems;
but the Captain contented himself with thus purging my work;
it was very rare for him to discuss it with me.
Sometimes I heard the melancholy tones of his organ;
but only at night, in the midst of the deepest obscurity,
when the Nautilus slept upon the deserted ocean. During this part
of our voyage we sailed whole days on the surface of the waves.
The sea seemed abandoned. A few sailing-vessels, on
the road to India, were making for the Cape of Good Hope.
One day we were followed by the boats of a whaler, who, no doubt,
took us for some enormous whale of great price; but Captain
Nemo did not wish the worthy fellows to lose their time
and trouble, so ended the chase by plunging under the water.
Our navigation continued until the 13th of March;
that day the Nautilus was employed in taking soundings,
which greatly interested me. We had then made about 13,000
leagues since our departure from the high seas of the Pacific.
The bearings gave us 45@ 37' S. lat., and 37@ 53' W. long.
It was the same water in which Captain Denham of the Herald
sounded 7,000 fathoms without finding the bottom.
There, too, Lieutenant Parker, of the American frigate Congress,
could not touch the bottom with 15,140 fathoms.
Captain Nemo intended seeking the bottom of the ocean by a
diagonal sufficiently lengthened by means of lateral planes
placed at an angle of 45@ with the water-line of the Nautilus.
Then the screw set to work at its maximum speed, its four
blades beating the waves with in describable force.
Under this powerful pressure, the hull of the Nautilus quivered
like a sonorous chord and sank regularly under the water.

At 7,000 fathoms I saw some blackish tops rising from the midst of the waters;
but these summits might belong to high mountains like the Himalayas or
Mont Blanc, even higher; and the depth of the abyss remained incalculable.
The Nautilus descended still lower, in spite of the great pressure.
I felt the steel plates tremble at the fastenings of the bolts;
its bars bent, its partitions groaned; the windows of the saloon
seemed to curve under the pressure of the waters. And this firm
structure would doubtless have yielded, if, as its Captain had said,
it had not been capable of resistance like a solid block. We had attained
a depth of 16,000 yards (four leagues), and the sides of the Nautilus
then bore a pressure of 1,600 atmospheres, that is to say, 3,200 lb.
to each square two-fifths of an inch of its surface.

"What a situation to be in!" I exclaimed. "To overrun these deep regions
where man has never trod! Look, Captain, look at these magnificent rocks,
these uninhabited grottoes, these lowest receptacles of the globe,
where life is no longer possible! What unknown sights are here!
Why should we be unable to preserve a remembrance of them?"

"Would you like to carry away more than the remembrance?"
said Captain Nemo.

"What do you mean by those words?"

"I mean to say that nothing is easier than to make a photographic
view of this submarine region."

I had not time to express my surprise at this new proposition, when,
at Captain Nemo's call, an objective was brought into the saloon.
Through the widely-opened panel, the liquid mass was bright with electricity,
which was distributed with such uniformity that not a shadow, not a gradation,
was to be seen in our manufactured light. The Nautilus remained motionless,
the force of its screw subdued by the inclination of its planes:
the instrument was propped on the bottom of the oceanic site, and in a few
seconds we had obtained a perfect negative.

But, the operation being over, Captain Nemo said, "Let us go up;
we must not abuse our position, nor expose the Nautilus too long
to such great pressure."

"Go up again!" I exclaimed.

"Hold well on."

I had not time to understand why the Captain cautioned me thus, when I
was thrown forward on to the carpet. At a signal from the Captain,
its screw was shipped, and its blades raised vertically; the Nautilus
shot into the air like a balloon, rising with stunning rapidity,
and cutting the mass of waters with a sonorous agitation.
Nothing was visible; and in four minutes it had shot through the four
leagues which separated it from the ocean, and, after emerging like a
flying-fish, fell, making the waves rebound to an enormous height.



During the nights of the 13th and 14th of March, the Nautilus returned
to its southerly course. I fancied that, when on a level with Cape Horn,
he would turn the helm westward, in order to beat the Pacific seas,
and so complete the tour of the world. He did nothing of the kind,
but continued on his way to the southern regions. Where was he going to?
To the pole? It was madness! I began to think that the Captain's
temerity justified Ned Land's fears. For some time past the Canadian
had not spoken to me of his projects of flight; he was less communicative,
almost silent. I could see that this lengthened imprisonment was
weighing upon him, and I felt that rage was burning within him.
When he met the Captain, his eyes lit up with suppressed anger;
and I feared that his natural violence would lead him into some extreme.
That day, the 14th of March, Conseil and he came to me in my room.
I inquired the cause of their visit.

"A simple question to ask you, sir," replied the Canadian.

"Speak, Ned."

"How many men are there on board the Nautilus, do you think?"

"I cannot tell, my friend."

"I should say that its working does not require a large crew."

"Certainly, under existing conditions, ten men, at the most,
ought to be enough."

"Well, why should there be any more?"

"Why?" I replied, looking fixedly at Ned Land, whose meaning was easy
to guess. "Because," I added, "if my surmises are correct, and if I have
well understood the Captain's existence, the Nautilus is not only a vessel:
it is also a place of refuge for those who, like its commander, have broken
every tie upon earth."

"Perhaps so," said Conseil; "but, in any case, the Nautilus can only contain
a certain number of men. Could not you, sir, estimate their maximum?"

"How, Conseil?"

"By calculation; given the size of the vessel, which you know, sir,
and consequently the quantity of air it contains, knowing also how much
each man expends at a breath, and comparing these results with the fact
that the Nautilus is obliged to go to the surface every twenty-four hours."

Conseil had not finished the sentence before I saw what he was driving at.

"I understand," said I; "but that calculation, though simple enough,
can give but a very uncertain result."

"Never mind," said Ned Land urgently.

"Here it is, then," said I. "In one hour each man consumes the oxygen
contained in twenty gallons of air; and in twenty-four, that contained
in 480 gallons. We must, therefore find how many times 480 gallons
of air the Nautilus contains."

"Just so," said Conseil.

"Or," I continued, "the size of the Nautilus being 1,500 tons;
and one ton holding 200 gallons, it contains 300,000 gallons
of air, which, divided by 480, gives a quotient of 625.
Which means to say, strictly speaking, that the air contained in
the Nautilus would suffice for 625 men for twenty-four hours."

"Six hundred and twenty-five!" repeated Ned.

"But remember that all of us, passengers, sailors, and officers included,
would not form a tenth part of that number."

"Still too many for three men," murmured Conseil.

The Canadian shook his head, passed his hand across his forehead,
and left the room without answering.

"Will you allow me to make one observation, sir?" said Conseil.
"Poor Ned is longing for everything that he can not have. His past life
is always present to him; everything that we are forbidden he regrets.
His head is full of old recollections. And we must understand him.
What has he to do here? Nothing; he is not learned like you, sir;
and has not the same taste for the beauties of the sea that we have.
He would risk everything to be able to go once more into a tavern
in his own country."

Certainly the monotony on board must seem intolerable to the Canadian,
accustomed as he was to a life of liberty and activity.
Events were rare which could rouse him to any show of spirit; but that day
an event did happen which recalled the bright days of the harpooner.
About eleven in the morning, being on the surface of the ocean,
the Nautilus fell in with a troop of whales--an encounter which did
not astonish me, knowing that these creatures, hunted to death,
had taken refuge in high latitudes.

We were seated on the platform, with a quiet sea. The month of October
in those latitudes gave us some lovely autumnal days. It was the Canadian--
he could not be mistaken--who signalled a whale on the eastern horizon.
Looking attentively, one might see its black back rise and fall with the waves
five miles from the Nautilus.

"Ah!" exclaimed Ned Land, "if I was on board a whaler, now such
a meeting would give me pleasure. It is one of large size.
See with what strength its blow-holes throw up columns of air an steam!
Confound it, why am I bound to these steel plates?"

"What, Ned," said I, "you have not forgotten your old ideas of fishing?"

"Can a whale-fisher ever forget his old trade, sir? Can he ever
tire of the emotions caused by such a chase?"

"You have never fished in these seas, Ned?"

"Never, sir; in the northern only, and as much in Behring
as in Davis Straits."

"Then the southern whale is still unknown to you. It is the Greenland
whale you have hunted up to this time, and that would not risk passing
through the warm waters of the equator. Whales are localised,
according to their kinds, in certain seas which they never leave.
And if one of these creatures went from Behring to Davis Straits,
it must be simply because there is a passage from one sea to the other,
either on the American or the Asiatic side."

"In that case, as I have never fished in these seas, I do not know
the kind of whale frequenting them!"

"I have told you, Ned."

"A greater reason for making their acquaintance," said Conseil.

"Look! look!" exclaimed the Canadian, "they approach:
they aggravate me; they know that I cannot get at them!"

Ned stamped his feet. His hand trembled, as he grasped an imaginary harpoon.

"Are these cetaceans as large as those of the northern seas?" asked he.

"Very nearly, Ned."

"Because I have seen large whales, sir, whales measuring a hundred feet.
I have even been told that those of Hullamoch and Umgallick,
of the Aleutian Islands, are sometimes a hundred and fifty feet long."

"That seems to me exaggeration. These creatures are 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

"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.



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@ 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@ 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

"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@, 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

"The sea is open!!" was all he said.



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."

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