them; heliotropes, quite incapable of justifying their name, sadly drooped
their clusters of flowers, both their colour and perfume half gone. Here
and there some chrysanthemums grew timidly at the foot of an aloe with
long, sickly-looking leaves. But between the streams of lava, I saw some
little violets still slightly perfumed, and I admit that I smelt them with
delight. Perfume is the soul of the flower, and sea-flowers have no soul.
We had arrived at the foot of some sturdy dragon-trees, which had
pushed aside the rocks with their strong roots, when Ned Land exclaimed:
"Ah! sir, a hive! a hive!"
"A hive!" I replied, with a gesture of incredulity.
"Yes, a hive," repeated the Canadian, "and bees humming round it."
I approached, and was bound to believe my own eyes. There at a hole
bored in one of the dragon-trees were some thousands of these ingenious
insects, so common in all the Canaries, and whose produce is so much
esteemed. Naturally enough, the Canadian wished to gather the honey, and I
could not well oppose his wish. A quantity of dry leaves, mixed with
sulphur, he lit with a spark from his flint, and he began to smoke out the
bees. The humming ceased by degrees, and the hive eventually yielded
several pounds of the sweetest honey, with which Ned Land filled his
haversack.
"When I have mixed this honey with the paste of the bread-fruit," said
he, "I shall be able to offer you a succulent cake."
{`bread-fruit' has been substituted for `artocarpus' in this ed.}
"'Pon my word," said Conseil, "it will be gingerbread."
"Never mind the gingerbread," said I; "let us continue our interesting
walk."
At every turn of the path we were following, the lake appeared in all
its length and breadth. The lantern lit up the whole of its peaceable
surface, which knew neither ripple nor wave. The Nautilus remained
perfectly immovable. On the platform, and on the mountain, the ship's crew
were working like black shadows clearly carved against the luminous
atmosphere. We were now going round the highest crest of the first layers
of rock which upheld the roof. I then saw that bees were not the only
representatives of the animal kingdom in the interior of this volcano.
Birds of prey hovered here and there in the shadows, or fled from their
nests on the top of the rocks. There were sparrow hawks, with white
breasts, and kestrels, and down the slopes scampered, with their long
legs, several fine fat bustards. I leave anyone to imagine the
covetousness of the Canadian at the sight of this savoury game, and
whether he did not regret having no gun. But he did his best to replace
the lead by stones, and, after several fruitless attempts, he succeeded in
wounding a magnificent bird. To say that he risked his life twenty times
before reaching it is but the truth; but he managed so well that the
creature joined the honey-cakes in his bag. We were now obliged to descend
toward the shore, the crest becoming impracticable. Above us the crater
seemed to gape like the mouth of a well. From this place the sky could be
clearly seen, and clouds, dissipated by the west wind, leaving behind
them, even on the summit of the mountain, their misty remnants-certain
proof that they were only moderately high, for the volcano did not rise
more than eight hundred feet above the level of the ocean. Half an hour
after the Canadian's last exploit we had regained the inner shore. Here
the flora was represented by large carpets of marine crystal, a little
umbelliferous plant very good to pickle, which also bears the name of
pierce-stone and sea-fennel. Conseil gathered some bundles of it. As to
the fauna, it might be counted by thousands of crustacea of all sorts,
lobsters, crabs, spider-crabs, chameleon shrimps, and a large number of
shells, rockfish, and limpets. Three-quarters of an hour later we had
finished our circuitous walk and were on board. The crew had just finished
loading the sodium, and the Nautilus could have left that instant. But
Captain Nemo gave no order. Did he wish to wait until night, and leave the
submarine passage secretly? Perhaps so. Whatever it might be, the next
day, the Nautilus, having left its port, steered clear of all land at a
few yards beneath the waves of the Atlantic.


    Chapter XI. THE SARGASSO SEA



That day the Nautilus crossed a singular part of the Atlantic Ocean. No
one can be ignorant of the existence of a current of warm water known by
the name of the Gulf Stream. After leaving the Gulf of Florida, we went in
the direction of Spitzbergen. But before entering the Gulf of Mexico,
about 45O of N. lat., this current divides into two arms, the principal
one going towards the coast of Ireland and Norway, whilst the second bends
to the south about the height of the Azores; then, touching the African
shore, and describing a lengthened oval, returns to the Antilles. This
second arm-it is rather a collar than an arm-surrounds with its circles of
warm water that portion of the cold, quiet, immovable ocean called the
Sargasso Sea, a perfect lake in the open Atlantic: it takes no less than
three years for the great current to pass round it. Such was the region
the Nautilus was now visiting, a perfect meadow, a close carpet of
seaweed, fucus, and tropical berries, so thick and so compact that the
stem of a vessel could hardly tear its way through it. And Captain Nemo,
not wishing to entangle his screw in this herbaceous mass, kept some yards
beneath the surface of the waves. The name Sargasso comes from the Spanish
word "sargazzo" which signifies kelp. This kelp, or berry-plant, is the
principal formation of this immense bank. And this is the reason why these
plants unite in the peaceful basin of the Atlantic. The only explanation
which can be given, he says, seems to me to result from the experience
known to all the world. Place in a vase some fragments of cork or other
floating body, and give to the water in the vase a circular movement, the
scattered fragments will unite in a group in the centre of the liquid
surface, that is to say, in the part least agitated. In the phenomenon we
are considering, the Atlantic is the vase, the Gulf Stream the circular
current, and the Sargasso Sea the central point at which the floating
bodies unite.
I share Maury's opinion, and I was able to study the phenomenon in the
very midst, where vessels rarely penetrate. Above us floated products of
all kinds, heaped up among these brownish plants; trunks of trees torn
from the Andes or the Rocky Mountains, and floated by the Amazon or the
Mississippi; numerous wrecks, remains of keels, or ships' bottoms,
side-planks stove in, and so weighted with shells and barnacles that they
could not again rise to the surface. And time will one day justify Maury's
other opinion, that these substances thus accumulated for ages will become
petrified by the action of the water and will then form inexhaustible
coal-mines- a precious reserve prepared by far-seeing Nature for the
moment when men shall have exhausted the mines of continents.
In the midst of this inextricable mass of plants and sea weed, I
noticed some charming pink halcyons and actiniae, with their long
tentacles trailing after them, and medusae, green, red, and blue.
All the day of the 22nd of February we passed in the Sargasso Sea,
where such fish as are partial to marine plants find abundant nourishment.
The next, the ocean had returned to its accustomed aspect. From this time
for nineteen days, from the 23rd of February to the 12th of March, the
Nautilus kept in the middle of the Atlantic, carrying us at a constant
speed of a hundred leagues in twenty-four hours. Captain Nemo evidently
intended accomplishing his submarine programme, and I imagined that he
intended, after doubling Cape Horn, to return to the Australian seas of
the Pacific. Ned Land had cause for fear. In these large seas, void of
islands, we could not attempt to leave the boat. Nor had we any means of
opposing Captain Nemo's will. Our only course was to submit; but what we
could neither gain by force nor cunning, I liked to think might be
obtained by persuasion. This voyage ended, would he not consent to restore
our liberty, under an oath never to reveal his existence?-an oath of
honour which we should have religiously kept. But we must consider that
delicate question with the Captain. But was I free to claim this liberty?
Had he not himself said from the beginning, in the firmest manner, that
the secret of his life exacted from him our lasting imprisonment on board
the Nautilus? And would not my four months' silence appear to him a tacit
acceptance of our situation? And would not a return to the subject result
in raising suspicions which might be hurtful to our projects, if at some
future time a favourable opportunity offered to return to them?
During the nineteen days mentioned above, no incident of any kind
happened to signalise our voyage. I saw little of the Captain; he was at
work. In the library I often found his books left open, especially those
on natural history. My work on submarine depths, conned over by him, was
covered with marginal notes, often contradicting my theories and systems;
but the Captain contented himself with thus purging my work; it was very
rare for him to discuss it with me. Sometimes I heard the melancholy tones
of his organ; but only at night, in the midst of the deepest obscurity,
when the Nautilus slept upon the deserted ocean. During this part of our
voyage we sailed whole days on the surface of the waves. The sea seemed
abandoned. A few sailing-vessels, on the road to India, were making for
the Cape of Good Hope. One day we were followed by the boats of a whaler,
who, no doubt, took us for some enormous whale of great price; but Captain
Nemo did not wish the worthy fellows to lose their time and trouble, so
ended the chase by plunging under the water. Our navigation continued
until the 13th of March; that day the Nautilus was employed in taking
soundings, which greatly interested me. We had then made about 13,000
leagues since our departure from the high seas of the Pacific. The
bearings gave us 45O 37' S. lat., and 37O 53' W. long. It was the same
water in which Captain Denham of the Herald sounded 7,000 fathoms without
finding the bottom. There, too, Lieutenant Parker, of the American frigate
Congress, could not touch the bottom with 15,140 fathoms. Captain Nemo
intended seeking the bottom of the ocean by a diagonal sufficiently
lengthened by means of lateral planes placed at an angle of 45O with the
water-line of the Nautilus. Then the screw set to work at its maximum
speed, its four blades beating the waves with in describable force. Under
this powerful pressure, the hull of the Nautilus quivered like a sonorous
chord and sank regularly under the water.
At 7,000 fathoms I saw some blackish tops rising from the midst of the
waters; but these summits might belong to high mountains like the
Himalayas or Mont Blanc, even higher; and the depth of the abyss remained
incalculable. The Nautilus descended still lower, in spite of the great
pressure. I felt the steel plates tremble at the fastenings of the bolts;
its bars bent, its partitions groaned; the windows of the saloon seemed to
curve under the pressure of the waters. And this firm structure would
doubtless have yielded, if, as its Captain had said, it had not been
capable of resistance like a solid block. We had attained a depth of
16,000 yards (four leagues), and the sides of the Nautilus then bore a
pressure of 1,600 atmospheres, that is to say, 3,200 lb. to each square
two-fifths of an inch of its surface.
"What a situation to be in!" I exclaimed. "To overrun these deep
regions where man has never trod! Look, Captain, look at these magnificent
rocks, these uninhabited grottoes, these lowest receptacles of the globe,
where life is no longer possible! What unknown sights are here! Why should
we be unable to preserve a remembrance of them?"
"Would you like to carry away more than the remembrance?" said Captain
Nemo.
"What do you mean by those words?"
"I mean to say that nothing is easier than to make a photographic view
of this submarine region."
I had not time to express my surprise at this new proposition, when, at
Captain Nemo's call, an objective was brought into the saloon. Through the
widely-opened panel, the liquid mass was bright with electricity, which
was distributed with such uniformity that not a shadow, not a gradation,
was to be seen in our manufactured light. The Nautilus remained
motionless, the force of its screw subdued by the inclination of its
planes: the instrument was propped on the bottom of the oceanic site, and
in a few seconds we had obtained a perfect negative.
But, the operation being over, Captain Nemo said, "Let us go up; we
must not abuse our position, nor expose the Nautilus too long to such
great pressure."
"Go up again!" I exclaimed.
"Hold well on."
I had not time to understand why the Captain cautioned me thus, when I
was thrown forward on to the carpet. At a signal from the Captain, its
screw was shipped, and its blades raised vertically; the Nautilus shot
into the air like a balloon, rising with stunning rapidity, and cutting
the mass of waters with a sonorous agitation. Nothing was visible; and in
four minutes it had shot through the four leagues which separated it from
the ocean, and, after emerging like a flying-fish, fell, making the waves
rebound to an enormous height.


    Chapter XII. CACHALOTS AND WHALES



During the nights of the 13th and 14th of March, the Nautilus returned
to its southerly course. I fancied that, when on a level with Cape Horn,
he would turn the helm westward, in order to beat the Pacific seas, and so
complete the tour of the world. He did nothing of the kind, but continued
on his way to the southern regions. Where was he going to? To the pole? It
was madness! I began to think that the Captain's temerity justified Ned
Land's fears. For some time past the Canadian had not spoken to me of his
projects of flight; he was less communicative, almost silent. I could see
that this lengthened imprisonment was weighing upon him, and I felt that
rage was burning within him. When he met the Captain, his eyes lit up with
suppressed anger; and I feared that his natural violence would lead him
into some extreme. That day, the 14th of March, Conseil and he came to me
in my room. I inquired the cause of their visit.
"A simple question to ask you, sir," replied the Canadian.
"Speak, Ned."
"How many men are there on board the Nautilus, do you think?"
"I cannot tell, my friend."
"I should say that its working does not require a large crew."
"Certainly, under existing conditions, ten men, at the most, ought to
be enough."
"Well, why should there be any more?"
"Why?" I replied, looking fixedly at Ned Land, whose meaning was easy
to guess. "Because," I added, "if my surmises are correct, and if I have
well understood the Captain's existence, the Nautilus is not only a
vessel: it is also a place of refuge for those who, like its commander,
have broken every tie upon earth."
"Perhaps so," said Conseil; "but, in any case, the Nautilus can only
contain a certain number of men. Could not you, sir, estimate their
maximum?"
"How, Conseil?"
"By calculation; given the size of the vessel, which you know, sir, and
consequently the quantity of air it contains, knowing also how much each
man expends at a breath, and comparing these results with the fact that
the Nautilus is obliged to go to the surface every twenty-four hours."
Conseil had not finished the sentence before I saw what he was driving
at.
"I understand," said I; "but that calculation, though simple enough,
can give but a very uncertain result."
"Never mind," said Ned Land urgently.
"Here it is, then," said I. "In one hour each man consumes the oxygen
contained in twenty gallons of air; and in twenty-four, that contained in
480 gallons. We must, therefore find how many times 480 gallons of air the
Nautilus contains."
"Just so," said Conseil.
"Or," I continued, "the size of the Nautilus being 1,500 tons; and one
ton holding 200 gallons, it contains 300,000 gallons of air, which,
divided by 480, gives a quotient of 625. Which means to say, strictly
speaking, that the air contained in the Nautilus would suffice for 625 men
for twenty-four hours."
"Six hundred and twenty-five!" repeated Ned.
"But remember that all of us, passengers, sailors, and officers
included, would not form a tenth part of that number."
"Still too many for three men," murmured Conseil.
The Canadian shook his head, passed his hand across his forehead, and
left the room without answering.
"Will you allow me to make one observation, sir?" said Conseil. "Poor
Ned is longing for everything that he can not have. His past life is
always present to him; everything that we are forbidden he regrets. His
head is full of old recollections. And we must understand him. What has he
to do here? Nothing; he is not learned like you, sir; and has not the same
taste for the beauties of the sea that we have. He would risk everything
to be able to go once more into a tavern in his own country."
Certainly the monotony on board must seem intolerable to the Canadian,
accustomed as he was to a life of liberty and activity. Events were rare
which could rouse him to any show of spirit; but that day an event did
happen which recalled the bright days of the harpooner. About eleven in
the morning, being on the surface of the ocean, the Nautilus fell in with
a troop of whales-an encounter which did not astonish me, knowing that
these creatures, hunted to death, had taken refuge in high latitudes.
We were seated on the platform, with a quiet sea. The month of October
in those latitudes gave us some lovely autumnal days. It was the Canadian-
he could not be mistaken-who signalled a whale on the eastern horizon.
Looking attentively, one might see its black back rise and fall with the
waves five miles from the Nautilus.
"Ah!" exclaimed Ned Land, "if I was on board a whaler, now such a
meeting would give me pleasure. It is one of large size. See with what
strength its blow-holes throw up columns of air an steam! Confound it, why
am I bound to these steel plates?"
"What, Ned," said I, "you have not forgotten your old ideas of fishing?"
"Can a whale-fisher ever forget his old trade, sir? Can he ever tire of
the emotions caused by such a chase?"
"You have never fished in these seas, Ned?"
"Never, sir; in the northern only, and as much in Behring as in Davis
Straits."
"Then the southern whale is still unknown to you. It is the Greenland
whale you have hunted up to this time, and that would not risk passing
through the warm waters of the equator. Whales are localised, according to
their kinds, in certain seas which they never leave. And if one of these
creatures went from Behring to Davis Straits, it must be simply because
there is a passage from one sea to the other, either on the American or
the Asiatic side."
"In that case, as I have never fished in these seas, I do not know the
kind of whale frequenting them!"
"I have told you, Ned."
"A greater reason for making their acquaintance," said Conseil.
"Look! look!" exclaimed the Canadian, "they approach: they aggravate
me; they know that I cannot get at them!"
Ned stamped his feet. His hand trembled, as he grasped an imaginary
harpoon.
"Are these cetaceans as large as those of the northern seas?" asked he.
"Very nearly, Ned."
"Because I have seen large whales, sir, whales measuring a hundred
feet. I have even been told that those of Hullamoch and Umgallick, of the
Aleutian Islands, are sometimes a hundred and fifty feet long."
"That seems to me exaggeration. These creatures are generally much
smaller than the Greenland whale." {this paragraph has been edited}
"Ah!" exclaimed the Canadian, whose eyes had never left the ocean,
"they are coming nearer; they are in the same water as the Nautilus."
Then, returning to the conversation, he said:
"You spoke of the cachalot as a small creature. I have heard of
gigantic ones. They are intelligent cetacea. It is said of some that they
cover themselves with seaweed and fucus, and then are taken for islands.
People encamp upon them, and settle there; lights a fire-"
"And build houses," said Conseil.
"Yes, joker," said Ned Land. "And one fine day the creature plunges,
carrying with it all the inhabitants to the bottom of the sea."
"Something like the travels of Sinbad the Sailor," I replied, laughing.
"Ah!" suddenly exclaimed Ned Land, "it is not one whale; there are
ten-there are twenty-it is a whole troop! And I not able to do anything!
hands and feet tied!"
"But, friend Ned," said Conseil, "why do you not ask Captain Nemo's
permission to chase them?"
Conseil had not finished his sentence when Ned Land had lowered himself
through the panel to seek the Captain. A few minutes afterwards the two
appeared together on the platform.
Captain Nemo watched the troop of cetacea playing on the waters about a
mile from the Nautilus.
"They are southern whales," said he; "there goes the fortune of a whole
fleet of whalers."
"Well, sir," asked the Canadian, "can I not chase them, if only to
remind me of my old trade of harpooner?"
"And to what purpose?" replied Captain Nemo; "only to destroy! We have
nothing to do with the whale-oil on board."
"But, sir," continued the Canadian, "in the Red Sea you allowed us to
follow the dugong."
"Then it was to procure fresh meat for my crew. Here it would be
killing for killing's sake. I know that is a privilege reserved for man,
but I do not approve of such murderous pastime. In destroying the southern
whale (like the Greenland whale, an inoffensive creature), your traders do
a culpable action, Master Land. They have already depopulated the whole of
Baffin's Bay, and are annihilating a class of useful animals. Leave the
unfortunate cetacea alone. They have plenty of natural enemies-cachalots,
swordfish, and sawfish- without you troubling them."
The Captain was right. The barbarous and inconsiderate greed of these
fishermen will one day cause the disappearance of the last whale in the
ocean. Ned Land whistled "Yankee-doodle" between his teeth, thrust his
hands into his pockets, and turned his back upon us. But Captain Nemo
watched the troop of cetacea, and, addressing me, said:
"I was right in saying that whales had natural enemies enough, without
counting man. These will have plenty to do before long. Do you see, M.
Aronnax, about eight miles to leeward, those blackish moving points?"
"Yes, Captain," I replied.
"Those are cachalots-terrible animals, which I have met in troops of
two or three hundred. As to those, they are cruel, mischievous creatures;
they would be right in exterminating them."
The Canadian turned quickly at the last words.
"Well, Captain," said he, "it is still time, in the interest of the
whales."
"It is useless to expose one's self, Professor. The Nautilus will
disperse them. It is armed with a steel spur as good as Master Land's
harpoon, I imagine."
The Canadian did not put himself out enough to shrug his shoulders.
Attack cetacea with blows of a spur! Who had ever heard of such a thing?
"Wait, M. Aronnax," said Captain Nemo. "We will show you something you
have never yet seen. We have no pity for these ferocious creatures. They
are nothing but mouth and teeth."
Mouth and teeth! No one could better describe the macrocephalous
cachalot, which is sometimes more than seventy-five feet long. Its
enormous head occupies one-third of its entire body. Better armed than the
whale, whose upper jaw is furnished only with whalebone, it is supplied
with twenty-five large tusks, about eight inches long, cylindrical and
conical at the top, each weighing two pounds. It is in the upper part of
this enormous head, in great cavities divided by cartilages, that is to be
found from six to eight hundred pounds of that precious oil called
spermaceti. The cachalot is a disagreeable creature, more tadpole than
fish, according to Fredol's description. It is badly formed, the whole of
its left side being (if we may say it), a "failure," and being only able
to see with its right eye. But the formidable troop was nearing us. They
had seen the whales and were preparing to attack them. One could judge
beforehand that the cachalots would be victorious, not only because they
were better built for attack than their inoffensive adversaries, but also
because they could remain longer under water without coming to the
surface. There was only just time to go to the help of the whales. The
Nautilus went under water. Conseil, Ned Land, and I took our places before
the window in the saloon, and Captain Nemo joined the pilot in his cage to
work his apparatus as an engine of destruction. Soon I felt the beatings
of the screw quicken, and our speed increased. The battle between the
cachalots and the whales had already begun when the Nautilus arrived. They
did not at first show any fear at the sight of this new monster joining in
the conflict. But they soon had to guard against its blows. What a battle!
The Nautilus was nothing but a formidable harpoon, brandished by the hand
of its Captain. It hurled itself against the fleshy mass, passing through
from one part to the other, leaving behind it two quivering halves of the
animal. It could not feel the formidable blows from their tails upon its
sides, nor the shock which it produced itself, much more. One cachalot
killed, it ran at the next, tacked on the spot that it might not miss its
prey, going forwards and backwards, answering to its helm, plunging when
the cetacean dived into the deep waters, coming up with it when it
returned to the surface, striking it front or sideways, cutting or tearing
in all directions and at any pace, piercing it with its terrible spur.
What carnage! What a noise on the surface of the waves! What sharp
hissing, and what snorting peculiar to these enraged animals! In the midst
of these waters, generally so peaceful, their tails made perfect billows.
For one hour this wholesale massacre continued, from which the cachalots
could not escape. Several times ten or twelve united tried to crush the
Nautilus by their weight. From the window we could see their enormous
mouths, studded with tusks, and their formidable eyes. Ned Land could not
contain himself; he threatened and swore at them. We could feel them
clinging to our vessel like dogs worrying a wild boar in a copse. But the
Nautilus, working its screw, carried them here and there, or to the upper
levels of the ocean, without caring for their enormous weight, nor the
powerful strain on the vessel. At length the mass of cachalots broke up,
the waves became quiet, and I felt that we were rising to the surface. The
panel opened, and we hurried on to the platform. The sea was covered with
mutilated bodies. A formidable explosion could not have divided and torn
this fleshy mass with more violence. We were floating amid gigantic
bodies, bluish on the back and white underneath, covered with enormous
protuberances. Some terrified cachalots were flying towards the horizon.
The waves were dyed red for several miles, and the Nautilus floated in a
sea of blood: Captain Nemo joined us.
"Well, Master Land?" said he.
"Well, sir," replied the Canadian, whose enthusiasm had somewhat
calmed; "it is a terrible spectacle, certainly. But I am not a butcher. I
am a hunter, and I call this a butchery."
"It is a massacre of mischievous creatures," replied the Captain; "and
the Nautilus is not a butcher's knife."
"I like my harpoon better," said the Canadian.
"Every one to his own," answered the Captain, looking fixedly at Ned
Land.
I feared he would commit some act of violence, which would end in sad
consequences. But his anger was turned by the sight of a whale which the
Nautilus had just come up with. The creature had not quite escaped from
the cachalot's teeth. I recognised the southern whale by its flat head,
which is entirely black. Anatomically, it is distinguished from the white
whale and the North Cape whale by the seven cervical vertebrae, and it has
two more ribs than its congeners. The unfortunate cetacean was lying on
its side, riddled with holes from the bites, and quite dead. From its
mutilated fin still hung a young whale which it could not save from the
massacre. Its open mouth let the water flow in and out, murmuring like the
waves breaking on the shore. Captain Nemo steered close to the corpse of
the creature. Two of his men mounted its side, and I saw, not without
surprise, that they were drawing from its breasts all the milk which they
contained, that is to say, about two or three tons. The Captain offered me
a cup of the milk, which was still warm. I could not help showing my
repugnance to the drink; but he assured me that it was excellent, and not
to be distinguished from cow's milk. I tasted it, and was of his opinion.
It was a useful reserve to us, for in the shape of salt butter or cheese
it would form an agreeable variety from our ordinary food. From that day I
noticed with uneasiness that Ned Land's ill-will towards Captain Nemo
increased, and I resolved to watch the Canadian's gestures closely.


    Chapter XIII. THE ICEBERG



The Nautilus was steadily pursuing its southerly course, following the
fiftieth meridian with considerable speed. Did he wish to reach the pole?
I did not think so, for every attempt to reach that point had hitherto
failed. Again, the season was far advanced, for in the Antarctic regions
the 13th of March corresponds with the 13th of September of northern
regions, which begin at the equinoctial season. On the 14th of March I saw
floating ice in latitude 55O, merely pale bits of debris from twenty to
twenty-five feet long, forming banks over which the sea curled. The
Nautilus remained on the surface of the ocean. Ned Land, who had fished in
the Arctic Seas, was familiar with its icebergs; but Conseil and I admired
them for the first time. In the atmosphere towards the southern horizon
stretched a white dazzling band. English whalers have given it the name of
"ice blink." However thick the clouds may be, it is always visible, and
announces the presence of an ice pack or bank. Accordingly, larger blocks
soon appeared, whose brilliancy changed with the caprices of the fog. Some
of these masses showed green veins, as if long undulating lines had been
traced with sulphate of copper; others resembled enormous amethysts with
the light shining through them. Some reflected the light of day upon a
thousand crystal facets. Others shaded with vivid calcareous reflections
resembled a perfect town of marble. The more we neared the south the more
these floating islands increased both in number and importance.
At 60O lat. every pass had disappeared. But, seeking carefully, Captain
Nemo soon found a narrow opening, through which he boldly slipped,
knowing, however, that it would close behind him. Thus, guided by this
clever hand, the Nautilus passed through all the ice with a precision
which quite charmed Conseil; icebergs or mountains, ice-fields or smooth
plains, seeming to have no limits, drift-ice or floating ice-packs, plains
broken up, called palchs when they are circular, and streams when they are
made up of long strips. The temperature was very low; the thermometer
exposed to the air marked 2O or 3O below zero, but we were warmly clad
with fur, at the expense of the sea-bear and seal. The interior of the
Nautilus, warmed regularly by its electric apparatus, defied the most
intense cold. Besides, it would only have been necessary to go some yards
beneath the waves to find a more bearable temperature. Two months earlier
we should have had perpetual daylight in these latitudes; but already we
had had three or four hours of night, and by and by there would be six
months of darkness in these circumpolar regions. On the 15th of March we
were in the latitude of New Shetland and South Orkney. The Captain told me
that formerly numerous tribes of seals inhabited them; but that English
and American whalers, in their rage for destruction, massacred both old
and young; thus, where there was once life and animation, they had left
silence and death.
About eight o'clock on the morning of the 16th of March the Nautilus,
following the fifty-fifth meridian, cut the Antarctic polar circle. Ice
surrounded us on all sides, and closed the horizon. But Captain Nemo went
from one opening to another, still going higher. I cannot express my
astonishment at the beauties of these new regions. The ice took most
surprising forms. Here the grouping formed an oriental town, with
innumerable mosques and minarets; there a fallen city thrown to the earth,
as it were, by some convulsion of nature. The whole aspect was constantly
changed by the oblique rays of the sun, or lost in the greyish fog amidst
hurricanes of snow. Detonations and falls were heard on all sides, great
overthrows of icebergs, which altered the whole landscape like a diorama.
Often seeing no exit, I thought we were definitely prisoners; but,
instinct guiding him at the slightest indication, Captain Nemo would
discover a new pass. He was never mistaken when he saw the thin threads of
bluish water trickling along the ice-fields; and I had no doubt that he
had already ventured into the midst of these Antarctic seas before. On the
16th of March, however, the ice-fields absolutely blocked our road. It was
not the iceberg itself, as yet, but vast fields cemented by the cold. But
this obstacle could not stop Captain Nemo: he hurled himself against it
with frightful violence. The Nautilus entered the brittle mass like a
wedge, and split it with frightful crackings. It was the battering ram of
the ancients hurled by infinite strength. The ice, thrown high in the air,
fell like hail around us. By its own power of impulsion our apparatus made
a canal for itself; some times carried away by its own impetus, it lodged
on the ice-field, crushing it with its weight, and sometimes buried
beneath it, dividing it by a simple pitching movement, producing large
rents in it. Violent gales assailed us at this time, accompanied by thick
fogs, through which, from one end of the platform to the other, we could
see nothing. The wind blew sharply from all parts of the compass, and the
snow lay in such hard heaps that we had to break it with blows of a
pickaxe. The temperature was always at 5O below zero; every outward part
of the Nautilus was covered with ice. A rigged vessel would have been
entangled in the blocked up gorges. A vessel without sails, with
electricity for its motive power, and wanting no coal, could alone brave
such high latitudes. At length, on the 18th of March, after many useless
assaults, the Nautilus was positively blocked. It was no longer either
streams, packs, or ice-fields, but an interminable and immovable barrier,
formed by mountains soldered together.
"An iceberg!" said the Canadian to me.
I knew that to Ned Land, as well as to all other navigators who had
preceded us, this was an inevitable obstacle. The sun appearing for an
instant at noon, Captain Nemo took an observation as near as possible,
which gave our situation at 51O 30' long. and 67O 39' of S. lat. We had
advanced one degree more in this Antarctic region. Of the liquid surface
of the sea there was no longer a glimpse. Under the spur of the Nautilus
lay stretched a vast plain, entangled with confused blocks. Here and there
sharp points and slender needles rising to a height of 200 feet; further
on a steep shore, hewn as it were with an axe and clothed with greyish
tints; huge mirrors, reflecting a few rays of sunshine, half drowned in
the fog. And over this desolate face of nature a stern silence reigned,
scarcely broken by the flapping of the wings of petrels and puffins.
Everything was frozen-even the noise. The Nautilus was then obliged to
stop in its adventurous course amid these fields of ice. In spite of our
efforts, in spite of the powerful means employed to break up the ice, the
Nautilus remained immovable. Generally, when we can proceed no further, we
have return still open to us; but here return was as impossible as
advance, for every pass had closed behind us; and for the few moments when
we were stationary, we were likely to be entirely blocked, which did
indeed happen about two o'clock in the afternoon, the fresh ice forming
around its sides with astonishing rapidity. I was obliged to admit that
Captain Nemo was more than imprudent. I was on the platform at that
moment. The Captain had been observing our situation for some time past,
when he said to me:
"Well, sir, what do you think of this?"
"I think that we are caught, Captain."
"So, M. Aronnax, you really think that the Nautilus cannot disengage
itself?"
"With difficulty, Captain; for the season is already too far advanced
for you to reckon on the breaking of the ice."
"Ah! sir," said Captain Nemo, in an ironical tone, "you will always be
the same. You see nothing but difficulties and obstacles. I affirm that
not only can the Nautilus disengage itself, but also that it can go
further still."
"Further to the South?" I asked, looking at the Captain.
"Yes, sir; it shall go to the pole."
"To the pole!" I exclaimed, unable to repress a gesture of incredulity.
"Yes," replied the Captain, coldly, "to the Antarctic pole- to that
unknown point from whence springs every meridian of the globe. You know
whether I can do as I please with the Nautilus!"
Yes, I knew that. I knew that this man was bold, even to rashness. But
to conquer those obstacles which bristled round the South Pole, rendering
it more inaccessible than the North, which had not yet been reached by the
boldest navigators-was it not a mad enterprise, one which only a maniac
would have conceived? It then came into my head to ask Captain Nemo if he
had ever discovered that pole which had never yet been trodden by a human
creature?
"No, sir," he replied; "but we will discover it together. Where others
have failed, I will not fail. I have never yet led my Nautilus so far into
southern seas; but, I repeat, it shall go further yet."
"I can well believe you, Captain," said I, in a slightly ironical tone.
"I believe you! Let us go ahead! There are no obstacles for us! Let us
smash this iceberg! Let us blow it up; and, if it resists, let us give the
Nautilus wings to fly over it!"
"Over it, sir!" said Captain Nemo, quietly; "no, not over it, but under
it!"
"Under it!" I exclaimed, a sudden idea of the Captain's projects
flashing upon my mind. I understood; the wonderful qualities of the
Nautilus were going to serve us in this superhuman enterprise.
"I see we are beginning to understand one another, sir," said the
Captain, half smiling. "You begin to see the possibility-I should say the
success- of this attempt. That which is impossible for an ordinary vessel
is easy to the Nautilus. If a continent lies before the pole, it must stop
before the continent; but if, on the contrary, the pole is washed by open
sea, it will go even to the pole."
"Certainly," said I, carried away by the Captain's reasoning; "if the
surface of the sea is solidified by the ice, the lower depths are free by
the Providential law which has placed the maximum of density of the waters
of the ocean one degree higher than freezing-point; and, if I am not
mistaken, the portion of this iceberg which is above the water is as one
to four to that which is below."
"Very nearly, sir; for one foot of iceberg above the sea there are
three below it. If these ice mountains are not more than 300 feet above
the surface, they are not more than 900 beneath. And what are 900 feet to
the Nautilus?"
"Nothing, sir."
"It could even seek at greater depths that uniform temperature of
sea-water, and there brave with impunity the thirty or forty degrees of
surface cold."
"Just so, sir-just so," I replied, getting animated.
"The only difficulty," continued Captain Nemo, "is that of remaining
several days without renewing our provision of air."
"Is that all? The Nautilus has vast reservoirs; we can fill them, and
they will supply us with all the oxygen we want."
"Well thought of, M. Aronnax," replied the Captain, smiling. "But, not
wishing you to accuse me of rashness, I will first give you all my
objections."
"Have you any more to make?"
"Only one. It is possible, if the sea exists at the South Pole, that it
may be covered; and, consequently, we shall be unable to come to the
surface."
"Good, sir! but do you forget that the Nautilus is armed with a
powerful spur, and could we not send it diagonally against these fields of
ice, which would open at the shocks."
"Ah! sir, you are full of ideas to-day."
"Besides, Captain," I added, enthusiastically, "why should we not find
the sea open at the South Pole as well as at the North? The frozen poles
of the earth do not coincide, either in the southern or in the northern
regions; and, until it is proved to the contrary, we may suppose either a
continent or an ocean free from ice at these two points of the globe."
"I think so too, M. Aronnax," replied Captain Nemo. "I only wish you to
observe that, after having made so many objections to my project, you are
now crushing me with arguments in its favour!"
The preparations for this audacious attempt now began. The powerful
pumps of the Nautilus were working air into the reservoirs and storing it
at high pressure. About four o'clock, Captain Nemo announced the closing
of the panels on the platform. I threw one last look at the massive
iceberg which we were going to cross. The weather was clear, the
atmosphere pure enough, the cold very great, being 12O below zero; but,
the wind having gone down, this temperature was not so unbearable. About
ten men mounted the sides of the Nautilus, armed with pickaxes to break
the ice around the vessel, which was soon free. The operation was quickly
performed, for the fresh ice was still very thin. We all went below. The
usual reservoirs were filled with the newly-liberated water, and the
Nautilus soon descended. I had taken my place with Conseil in the saloon;
through the open window we could see the lower beds of the Southern Ocean.
The thermometer went up, the needle of the compass deviated on the dial.
At about 900 feet, as Captain Nemo had foreseen, we were floating beneath
the undulating bottom of the iceberg. But the Nautilus went lower still-it
went to the depth of four hundred fathoms. The temperature of the water at
the surface showed twelve degrees, it was now only ten; we had gained two.
I need not say the temperature of the Nautilus was raised by its heating
apparatus to a much higher degree; every manoeuvre was accomplished with
wonderful precision.
"We shall pass it, if you please, sir," said Conseil.
"I believe we shall," I said, in a tone of firm conviction.
In this open sea, the Nautilus had taken its course direct to the pole,
without leaving the fifty-second meridian. From 67O 30' to 90O, twenty-two
degrees and a half of latitude remained to travel; that is, about five
hundred leagues. The Nautilus kept up a mean speed of twenty-six miles an
hour- the speed of an express train. If that was kept up, in forty hours
we should reach the pole.
For a part of the night the novelty of the situation kept us at the
window. The sea was lit with the electric lantern; but it was deserted;
fishes did not sojourn in these imprisoned waters; they only found there a
passage to take them from the Antarctic Ocean to the open polar sea. Our
pace was rapid; we could feel it by the quivering of the long steel body.
About two in the morning I took some hours' repose, and Conseil did the
same. In crossing the waist I did not meet Captain Nemo: I supposed him to
be in the pilot's cage. The next morning, the 19th of March, I took my
post once more in the saloon. The electric log told me that the speed of
the Nautilus had been slackened. It was then going towards the surface;
but prudently emptying its reservoirs very slowly. My heart beat fast.
Were we going to emerge and regain the open polar atmosphere? No! A shock