told me that the Nautilus had struck the bottom of the iceberg, still very
thick, judging from the deadened sound. We had in deed "struck," to use a
sea expression, but in an inverse sense, and at a thousand feet deep. This
would give three thousand feet of ice above us; one thousand being above
the water-mark. The iceberg was then higher than at its borders-not a very
reassuring fact. Several times that day the Nautilus tried again, and
every time it struck the wall which lay like a ceiling above it. Sometimes
it met with but 900 yards, only 200 of which rose above the surface. It
was twice the height it was when the Nautilus had gone under the waves. I
carefully noted the different depths, and thus obtained a submarine
profile of the chain as it was developed under the water. That night no
change had taken place in our situation. Still ice between four and five
hundred yards in depth! It was evidently diminishing, but, still, what a
thickness between us and the surface of the ocean! It was then eight.
According to the daily custom on board the Nautilus, its air should have
been renewed four hours ago; but I did not suffer much, although Captain
Nemo had not yet made any demand upon his reserve of oxygen. My sleep was
painful that night; hope and fear besieged me by turns: I rose several
times. The groping of the Nautilus continued. About three in the morning,
I noticed that the lower surface of the iceberg was only about fifty feet
deep. One hundred and fifty feet now separated us from the surface of the
waters. The iceberg was by degrees becoming an ice-field, the mountain a
plain. My eyes never left the manometer. We were still rising diagonally
to the surface, which sparkled under the electric rays. The iceberg was
stretching both above and beneath into lengthening slopes; mile after mile
it was getting thinner. At length, at six in the morning of that memorable
day, the 19th of March, the door of the saloon opened, and Captain Nemo
appeared.
"The sea is open!!" was all he said.
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 3O 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 77O 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 2O below zero. The fog was rising, and I hoped that that day our
observations might be taken. Captain Nemo not having yet appeared, the
boat took Conseil and myself to land. The soil was still of the same
volcanic nature; everywhere were traces of lava, scoriae, and basalt; but
the crater which had vomited them I could not see. Here, as lower down,
this continent was alive with myriads of birds. But their rule was now
divided with large troops of sea-mammals, looking at us with their soft
eyes. There were several kinds of seals, some stretched on the earth, some
on flakes of ice, many going in and out of the sea. They did not flee at
our approach, never having had anything to do with man; and I reckoned
that there were provisions there for hundreds of vessels.
"Sir," said Conseil, "will you tell me the names of these creatures?"
"They are seals and morses."
It was now eight in the morning. Four hours remained to us before the
sun could be observed with advantage. I directed our steps towards a vast
bay cut in the steep granite shore. There, I can aver that earth and ice
were lost to sight by the numbers of sea-mammals covering them, and I
involuntarily sought for old Proteus, the mythological shepherd who
watched these immense flocks of Neptune. There were more seals than
anything else, forming distinct groups, male and female, the father
watching over his family, the mother suckling her little ones, some
already strong enough to go a few steps. When they wished to change their
place, they took little jumps, made by the contraction of their bodies,
and helped awkwardly enough by their imperfect fin, which, as with the
lamantin, their cousins, forms a perfect forearm. I should say that, in
the water, which is their element-the spine of these creatures is
flexible; with smooth and close skin and webbed feet-they swim admirably.
In resting on the earth they take the most graceful attitudes. Thus the
ancients, observing their soft and expressive looks, which cannot be
surpassed by the most beautiful look a woman can give, their clear
voluptuous eyes, their charming positions, and the poetry of their
manners, metamorphosed them, the male into a triton and the female into a
mermaid. I made Conseil notice the considerable development of the lobes
of the brain in these interesting cetaceans. No mammal, except man, has
such a quantity of brain matter; they are also capable of receiving a
certain amount of education, are easily domesticated, and I think, with
other naturalists, that if properly taught they would be of great service
as fishing-dogs. The greater part of them slept on the rocks or on the
sand. Amongst these seals, properly so called, which have no external ears
(in which they differ from the otter, whose ears are prominent), I noticed
several varieties of seals about three yards long, with a white coat,
bulldog heads, armed with teeth in both jaws, four incisors at the top and
four at the bottom, and two large canine teeth in the shape of a
fleur-de-lis. Amongst them glided sea-elephants, a kind of seal, with
short, flexible trunks. The giants of this species measured twenty feet
round and ten yards and a half in length; but they did not move as we
approached.
"These creatures are not dangerous?" asked Conseil.
"No; not unless you attack them. When they have to defend their young
their rage is terrible, and it is not uncommon for them to break the
fishing-boats to pieces."
"They are quite right," said Conseil.
"I do not say they are not."
Two miles farther on we were stopped by the promontory which shelters
the bay from the southerly winds. Beyond it we heard loud bellowings such
as a troop of ruminants would produce.
"Good!" said Conseil; "a concert of bulls!"
"No; a concert of morses."
"They are fighting!"
"They are either fighting or playing."
We now began to climb the blackish rocks, amid unforeseen stumbles, and
over stones which the ice made slippery. More than once I rolled over at
the expense of my loins. Conseil, more prudent or more steady, did not
stumble, and helped me up, saying:
"If, sir, you would have the kindness to take wider steps, you would
preserve your equilibrium better."
Arrived at the upper ridge of the promontory, I saw a vast white plain
covered with morses. They were playing amongst themselves, and what we
heard were bellowings of pleasure, not of anger.
As I passed these curious animals I could examine them leisurely, for
they did not move. Their skins were thick and rugged, of a yellowish tint,
approaching to red; their hair was short and scant. Some of them were four
yards and a quarter long. Quieter and less timid than their cousins of the
north, they did not, like them, place sentinels round the outskirts of
their encampment. After examining this city of morses, I began to think of
returning. It was eleven o'clock, and, if Captain Nemo found the
conditions favourable for observations, I wished to be present at the
operation. We followed a narrow pathway running along the summit of the
steep shore. At half-past eleven we had reached the place where we landed.
The boat had run aground, bringing the Captain. I saw him standing on a
block of basalt, his instruments near him, his eyes fixed on the northern
horizon, near which the sun was then describing a lengthened curve. I took
my place beside him, and waited without speaking. Noon arrived, and, as
before, the sun did not appear. It was a fatality. Observations were still
wanting. If not accomplished to-morrow, we must give up all idea of taking
any. We were indeed exactly at the 20th of March. To-morrow, the 21st,
would be the equinox; the sun would disappear behind the horizon for six
months, and with its disappearance the long polar night would begin. Since
the September equinox it had emerged from the northern horizon, rising by
lengthened spirals up to the 21st of December. At this period, the summer
solstice of the northern regions, it had begun to descend; and to-morrow
was to shed its last rays upon them. I communicated my fears and
observations to Captain Nemo.
"You are right, M. Aronnax," said he; "if to-morrow I cannot take the
altitude of the sun, I shall not be able to do it for six months. But
precisely because chance has led me into these seas on the 21st of March,
my bearings will be easy to take, if at twelve we can see the sun."
"Why, Captain?"
"Because then the orb of day described such lengthened curves that it
is difficult to measure exactly its height above the horizon, and grave
errors may be made with instruments."
"What will you do then?"
"I shall only use my chronometer," replied Captain Nemo. "If to-morrow,
the 21st of March, the disc of the sun, allowing for refraction, is
exactly cut by the northern horizon, it will show that I am at the South
Pole."
"Just so," said I. "But this statement is not mathematically correct,
because the equinox does not necessarily begin at noon."
"Very likely, sir; but the error will not be a hundred yards and we do
not want more. Till to-morrow, then!"
Captain Nemo returned on board. Conseil and I remained to survey the
shore, observing and studying until five o'clock. Then I went to bed, not,
however, without invoking, like the Indian, the favour of the radiant orb.
The next day, the 21st of March, at five in the morning, I mounted the
platform. I found Captain Nemo there.
"The weather is lightening a little," said he. "I have some hope. After
breakfast we will go on shore and choose a post for observation."
That point settled, I sought Ned Land. I wanted to take him with me.
But the obstinate Canadian refused, and I saw that his taciturnity and his
bad humour grew day by day. After all, I was not sorry for his obstinacy
under the circumstances. Indeed, there were too many seals on shore, and
we ought not to lay such temptation in this unreflecting fisherman's way.
Breakfast over, we went on shore. The Nautilus had gone some miles further
up in the night. It was a whole league from the coast, above which reared
a sharp peak about five hundred yards high. The boat took with me Captain
Nemo, two men of the crew, and the instruments, which consisted of a
chronometer, a telescope, and a barometer. While crossing, I saw numerous
whales belonging to the three kinds peculiar to the southern seas; the
whale, or the English "right whale," which has no dorsal fin; the
"humpback," with reeved chest and large, whitish fins, which, in spite of
its name, do not form wings; and the fin-back, of a yellowish brown, the
liveliest of all the cetacea. This powerful creature is heard a long way
off when he throws to a great height columns of air and vapour, which look
like whirlwinds of smoke. These different mammals were disporting
themselves in troops in the quiet waters; and I could see that this basin
of the Antarctic Pole serves as a place of refuge to the cetacea too
closely tracked by the hunters. I also noticed large medusae floating
between the reeds.
At nine we landed; the sky was brightening, the clouds were flying to
the south, and the fog seemed to be leaving the cold surface of the
waters. Captain Nemo went towards the peak, which he doubtless meant to be
his observatory. It was a painful ascent over the sharp lava and the
pumice-stones, in an atmosphere often impregnated with a sulphurous smell
from the smoking cracks. For a man unaccustomed to walk on land, the
Captain climbed the steep slopes with an agility I never saw equalled and
which a hunter would have envied. We were two hours getting to the summit
of this peak, which was half porphyry and half basalt. From thence we
looked upon a vast sea which, towards the north, distinctly traced its
boundary line upon the sky. At our feet lay fields of dazzling whiteness.
Over our heads a pale azure, free from fog. To the north the disc of the
sun seemed like a ball of fire, already horned by the cutting of the
horizon. From the bosom of the water rose sheaves of liquid jets by
hundreds. In the distance lay the Nautilus like a cetacean asleep on the
water. Behind us, to the south and east, an immense country and a chaotic
heap of rocks and ice, the limits of which were not visible. On arriving
at the summit Captain Nemo carefully took the mean height of the
barometer, for he would have to consider that in taking his observations.
At a quarter to twelve the sun, then seen only by refraction, looked like
a golden disc shedding its last rays upon this deserted continent and seas
which never man had yet ploughed. Captain Nemo, furnished with a
lenticular glass which, by means of a mirror, corrected the refraction,
watched the orb sinking below the horizon by degrees, following a
lengthened diagonal. I held the chronometer. My heart beat fast. If the
disappearance of the half-disc of the sun coincided with twelve o'clock on
the chronometer, we were at the pole itself.
"Twelve!" I exclaimed.
"The South Pole!" replied Captain Nemo, in a grave voice, handing me
the glass, which showed the orb cut in exactly equal parts by the horizon.
I looked at the last rays crowning the peak, and the shadows mounting
by degrees up its slopes. At that moment Captain Nemo, resting with his
hand on my shoulder, said:
"I, Captain Nemo, on this 21st day of March, 1868, have reached the
South Pole on the ninetieth degree; and I take possession of this part of
the globe, equal to one-sixth of the known continents."
"In whose name, Captain?"
"In my own, sir!"
Saying which, Captain Nemo unfurled a black banner, bearing an "N" in
gold quartered on its bunting. Then, turning towards the orb of day, whose
last rays lapped the horizon of the sea, he exclaimed:
"Adieu, sun! Disappear, thou radiant orb! rest beneath this open sea,
and let a night of six months spread its shadows over my new domains!"
The next day, the 22nd of March, at six in the morning, preparations
for departure were begun. The last gleams of twilight were melting into
night. The cold was great, the constellations shone with wonderful
intensity. In the zenith glittered that wondrous Southern Cross- the polar
bear of Antarctic regions. The thermometer showed 120 below zero, and when
the wind freshened it was most biting. Flakes of ice increased on the open
water. The sea seemed everywhere alike. Numerous blackish patches spread
on the surface, showing the formation of fresh ice. Evidently the southern
basin, frozen during the six winter months, was absolutely inaccessible.
What became of the whales in that time? Doubtless they went beneath the
icebergs, seeking more practicable seas. As to the seals and morses,
accustomed to live in a hard climate, they remained on these icy shores.
These creatures have the instinct to break holes in the ice-field and to
keep them open. To these holes they come for breath; when the birds,
driven away by the cold, have emigrated to the north, these sea mammals
remain sole masters of the polar continent. But the reservoirs were
filling with water, and the Nautilus was slowly descending. At 1,000 feet
deep it stopped; its screw beat the waves, and it advanced straight
towards the north at a speed of fifteen miles an hour. Towards night it
was already floating under the immense body of the iceberg. At three in
the morning I was awakened by a violent shock. I sat up in my bed and
listened in the darkness, when I was thrown into the middle of the room.
The Nautilus, after having struck, had rebounded violently. I groped along
the partition, and by the staircase to the saloon, which was lit by the
luminous ceiling. The furniture was upset. Fortunately the windows were
firmly set, and had held fast. The pictures on the starboard side, from
being no longer vertical, were clinging to the paper, whilst those of the
port side were hanging at least a foot from the wall. The Nautilus was
lying on its starboard side perfectly motionless. I heard footsteps, and a
confusion of voices; but Captain Nemo did not appear. As I was leaving the
saloon, Ned Land and Conseil entered.
"What is the matter?" said I, at once.
"I came to ask you, sir," replied Conseil.
"Confound it!" exclaimed the Canadian, "I know well enough! The
Nautilus has struck; and, judging by the way she lies, I do not think she
will right herself as she did the first time in Torres Straits."
"But," I asked, "has she at least come to the surface of the sea?"
"We do not know," said Conseil.
"It is easy to decide," I answered. I consulted the manometer. To my
great surprise, it showed a depth of more than 180 fathoms. "What does
that mean?" I exclaimed.
"We must ask Captain Nemo," said Conseil.
"But where shall we find him?" said Ned Land.
"Follow me," said I, to my companions.
We left the saloon. There was no one in the library. At the centre
staircase, by the berths of the ship's crew, there was no one. I thought
that Captain Nemo must be in the pilot's cage. It was best to wait. We all
returned to the saloon. For twenty minutes we remained thus, trying to
hear the slightest noise which might be made on board the Nautilus, when
Captain Nemo entered. He seemed not to see us; his face, generally so
impassive, showed signs of uneasiness. He watched the compass silently,
then the manometer; and, going to the planisphere, placed his finger on a
spot representing the southern seas. I would not interrupt him; but, some
minutes later, when he turned towards me, I said, using one of his own
expressions in the Torres Straits:
"An incident, Captain?"
"No, sir; an accident this time."
"Serious?"
"Perhaps."
"Is the danger immediate?"
"No."
"The Nautilus has stranded?"
"Yes."
"And this has happened-how?"
"From a caprice of nature, not from the ignorance of man. Not a mistake
has been made in the working. But we cannot prevent equilibrium from
producing its effects. We may brave human laws, but we cannot resist
natural ones."
Captain Nemo had chosen a strange moment for uttering this
philosophical reflection. On the whole, his answer helped me little.
"May I ask, sir, the cause of this accident?"
"An enormous block of ice, a whole mountain, has turned over," he
replied. "When icebergs are undermined at their base by warmer water or
reiterated shocks their centre of gravity rises, and the whole thing turns
over. This is what has happened; one of these blocks, as it fell, struck
the Nautilus, then, gliding under its hull, raised it with irresistible
force, bringing it into beds which are not so thick, where it is lying on
its side."
"But can we not get the Nautilus off by emptying its reservoirs, that
it might regain its equilibrium?"
"That, sir, is being done at this moment. You can hear the pump
working. Look at the needle of the manometer; it shows that the Nautilus
is rising, but the block of ice is floating with it; and, until some
obstacle stops its ascending motion, our position cannot be altered."
Indeed, the Nautilus still held the same position to starboard;
doubtless it would right itself when the block stopped. But at this moment
who knows if we may not be frightfully crushed between the two glassy
surfaces? I reflected on all the consequences of our position. Captain
Nemo never took his eyes off the manometer. Since the fall of the iceberg,
the Nautilus had risen about a hundred and fifty feet, but it still made
the same angle with the perpendicular. Suddenly a slight movement was felt
in the hold. Evidently it was righting a little. Things hanging in the
saloon were sensibly returning to their normal position. The partitions
were nearing the upright. No one spoke. With beating hearts we watched and
felt the straightening. The boards became horizontal under our feet. Ten
minutes passed.
"At last we have righted!" I exclaimed.
"Yes," said Captain Nemo, going to the door of the saloon.
"But are we floating?" I asked.
"Certainly," he replied; "since the reservoirs are not empty; and, when
empty, the Nautilus must rise to the surface of the sea."
We were in open sea; but at a distance of about ten yards, on either
side of the Nautilus, rose a dazzling wall of ice. Above and beneath the
same wall. Above, because the lower surface of the iceberg stretched over
us like an immense ceiling. Beneath, because the overturned block, having
slid by degrees, had found a resting-place on the lateral walls, which
kept it in that position. The Nautilus was really imprisoned in a perfect
tunnel of ice more than twenty yards in breadth, filled with quiet water.
It was easy to get out of it by going either forward or backward, and then
make a free passage under the iceberg, some hundreds of yards deeper. The
luminous ceiling had been extinguished, but the saloon was still
resplendent with intense light. It was the powerful reflection from the
glass partition sent violently back to the sheets of the lantern. I cannot
describe the effect of the voltaic rays upon the great blocks so
capriciously cut; upon every angle, every ridge, every facet was thrown a
different light, according to the nature of the veins running through the
ice; a dazzling mine of gems, particularly of sapphires, their blue rays
crossing with the green of the emerald. Here and there were opal shades of
wonderful softness, running through bright spots like diamonds of fire,
the brilliancy of which the eye could not bear. The power of the lantern
seemed increased a hundredfold, like a lamp through the lenticular plates
of a first-class lighthouse.
"How beautiful! how beautiful!" cried Conseil.
"Yes," I said, "it is a wonderful sight. Is it not, Ned?"
"Yes, confound it! Yes," answered Ned Land, "it is superb! I am mad at
being obliged to admit it. No one has ever seen anything like it; but the
sight may cost us dear. And, if I must say all, I think we are seeing here
things which God never intended man to see."
Ned was right, it was too beautiful. Suddenly a cry from Conseil made
me turn.
"What is it?" I asked.
"Shut your eyes, sir! Do not look, sir!" Saying which, Conseil clapped
his hands over his eyes.
"But what is the matter, my boy?"
"I am dazzled, blinded."
My eyes turned involuntarily towards the glass, but I could not stand
the fire which seemed to devour them. I understood what had happened. The
Nautilus had put on full speed. All the quiet lustre of the ice-walls was
at once changed into flashes of lightning. The fire from these myriads of
diamonds was blinding. It required some time to calm our troubled looks.
At last the hands were taken down.
"Faith, I should never have believed it," said Conseil.
It was then five in the morning; and at that moment a shock was felt at
the bows of the Nautilus. I knew that its spur had struck a block of ice.
It must have been a false manoeuvre, for this submarine tunnel, obstructed
by blocks, was not very easy navigation. I thought that Captain Nemo, by
changing his course, would either turn these obstacles or else follow the
windings of the tunnel. In any case, the road before us could not be
entirely blocked. But, contrary to my expectations, the Nautilus took a
decided retrograde motion.
"We are going backwards?" said Conseil.
"Yes," I replied. "This end of the tunnel can have no egress."
"And then?"
"Then," said I, "the working is easy. We must go back again, and go out
at the southern opening. That is all."
In speaking thus, I wished to appear more confident than I really was.
But the retrograde motion of the Nautilus was increasing; and, reversing
the screw, it carried us at great speed.
"It will be a hindrance," said Ned.
"What does it matter, some hours more or less, provided we get out at
last?"
"Yes," repeated Ned Land, "provided we do get out at last!"
For a short time I walked from the saloon to the library. My companions
were silent. I soon threw myself on an ottoman, and took a book, which my
eyes overran mechanically. A quarter of an hour after, Conseil,
approaching me, said, "Is what you are reading very interesting, sir?"
"Very interesting!" I replied.
"I should think so, sir. It is your own book you are reading."
"My book?"
And indeed I was holding in my hand the work on the Great Submarine
Depths. I did not even dream of it. I closed the book and returned to my
walk. Ned and Conseil rose to go.
"Stay here, my friends," said I, detaining them. "Let us remain
together until we are out of this block."
"As you please, sir," Conseil replied.
Some hours passed. I often looked at the instruments hanging from the
partition. The manometer showed that the Nautilus kept at a constant depth
of more than three hundred yards; the compass still pointed to south; the
log indicated a speed of twenty miles an hour, which, in such a cramped
space, was very great. But Captain Nemo knew that he could not hasten too
much, and that minutes were worth ages to us. At twenty-five minutes past
eight a second shock took place, this time from behind. I turned pale. My
companions were close by my side. I seized Conseil's hand. Our looks
expressed our feelings better than words. At this moment the Captain
entered the saloon. I went up to him.
"Our course is barred southward?" I asked.
"Yes, sir. The iceberg has shifted and closed every outlet."
"We are blocked up then?"
"Yes."
Thus around the Nautilus, above and below, was an impenetrable wall of
ice. We were prisoners to the iceberg. I watched the Captain. His
countenance had resumed its habitual imperturbability.
"Gentlemen," he said calmly, "there are two ways of dying in the
circumstances in which we are placed." (This puzzling person had the air
of a mathematical professor lecturing to his pupils.) "The first is to be
crushed; the second is to die of suffocation. I do not speak of the
possibility of dying of hunger, for the supply of provisions in the
Nautilus will certainly last longer than we shall. Let us, then, calculate
our chances."
"As to suffocation, Captain," I replied, "that is not to be feared,
because our reservoirs are full."
"Just so; but they will only yield two days' supply of air. Now, for
thirty-six hours we have been hidden under the water, and already the
heavy atmosphere of the Nautilus requires renewal. In forty-eight hours
our reserve will be exhausted."
"Well, Captain, can we be delivered before forty-eight hours?"
"We will attempt it, at least, by piercing the wall that surrounds us."
"On which side?"
"Sound will tell us. I am going to run the Nautilus aground on the
lower bank, and my men will attack the iceberg on the side that is least
thick."
Captain Nemo went out. Soon I discovered by a hissing noise that the
water was entering the reservoirs. The Nautilus sank slowly, and rested on
the ice at a depth of 350 yards, the depth at which the lower bank was
immersed.
"My friends," I said, "our situation is serious, but I rely on your
courage and energy."
"Sir," replied the Canadian, "I am ready to do anything for the general
safety."
"Good! Ned," and I held out my hand to the Canadian.
"I will add," he continued, "that, being as handy with the pickaxe as
with the harpoon, if I can be useful to the Captain, he can command my
services."
"He will not refuse your help. Come, Ned!"
I led him to the room where the crew of the Nautilus were putting on
their cork-jackets. I told the Captain of Ned's proposal, which he
accepted. The Canadian put on his sea-costume, and was ready as soon as
his companions. When Ned was dressed, I re-entered the drawing-room, where
the panes of glass were open, and, posted near Conseil, I examined the
ambient beds that supported the Nautilus. Some instants after, we saw a
dozen of the crew set foot on the bank of ice, and among them Ned Land,
easily known by his stature. Captain Nemo was with them. Before proceeding
to dig the walls, he took the soundings, to be sure of working in the
right direction. Long sounding lines were sunk in the side walls, but
after fifteen yards they were again stopped by the thick wall. It was
useless to attack it on the ceiling-like surface, since the iceberg itself
measured more than 400 yards in height. Captain Nemo then sounded the
lower surface. There ten yards of wall separated us from the water, so
great was the thickness of the ice-field. It was necessary, therefore, to
cut from it a piece equal in extent to the waterline of the Nautilus.
There were about 6,000 cubic yards to detach, so as to dig a hole by which
we could descend to the ice-field. The work had begun immediately and
carried on with indefatigable energy. Instead of digging round the
Nautilus which would have involved greater difficulty, Captain Nemo had an
immense trench made at eight yards from the port-quarter. Then the men set
to work simultaneously with their screws on several points of its
circumference. Presently the pickaxe attacked this compact matter
vigorously, and large blocks were detached from the mass. By a curious
effect of specific gravity, these blocks, lighter than water, fled, so to
speak, to the vault of the tunnel, that increased in thickness at the top
in proportion as it diminished at the base. But that mattered little, so
long as the lower part grew thinner. After two hours' hard work, Ned Land
came in exhausted. He and his comrades were replaced by new workers, whom
Conseil and I joined. The second lieutenant of the Nautilus superintended
us. The water seemed singularly cold, but I soon got warm handling the
pickaxe. My movements were free enough, although they were made under a
pressure of thirty atmospheres. When I re-entered, after working two
hours, to take some food and rest, I found a perceptible difference
between the pure fluid with which the Rouquayrol engine supplied me and
the atmosphere of the Nautilus, already charged with carbonic acid. The
air had not been renewed for forty-eight hours, and its vivifying
qualities were considerably enfeebled. However, after a lapse of twelve
hours, we had only raised a block of ice one yard thick, on the marked
surface, which was about 600 cubic yards! Reckoning that it took twelve
hours to accomplish this much it would take five nights and four days to
bring this enterprise to a satisfactory conclusion. Five nights and four
days! And we have only air enough for two days in the reservoirs! "Without
taking into account," said Ned, "that, even if we get out of this infernal
prison, we shall also be imprisoned under the iceberg, shut out from all
possible communication with the atmosphere." True enough! Who could then
foresee the minimum of time necessary for our deliverance? We might be
suffocated before the Nautilus could regain the surface of the waves? Was
it destined to perish in this ice-tomb, with all those it enclosed? The
situation was terrible. But everyone had looked the danger in the face,
and each was determined to do his duty to the last.
As I expected, during the night a new block a yard square was carried
away, and still further sank the immense hollow. But in the morning when,
dressed in my cork-jacket, I traversed the slushy mass at a temperature of
six or seven degrees below zero, I remarked that the side walls were
gradually closing in. The beds of water farthest from the trench, that
were not warmed by the men's work, showed a tendency to solidification. In
presence of this new and imminent danger, what would become of our chances
of safety, and how hinder the solidification of this liquid medium, that
would burst the partitions of the Nautilus like glass?
I did not tell my companions of this new danger. What was the good of
damping the energy they displayed in the painful work of escape? But when
I went on board again, I told Captain Nemo of this grave complication.
"I know it," he said, in that calm tone which could counteract the most
terrible apprehensions. "It is one danger more; but I see no way of
escaping it; the only chance of safety is to go quicker than
solidification. We must be beforehand with it, that is all."
On this day for several hours I used my pickaxe vigorously. The work
kept me up. Besides, to work was to quit the Nautilus, and breathe
directly the pure air drawn from the reservoirs, and supplied by our
apparatus, and to quit the impoverished and vitiated atmosphere. Towards
evening the trench was dug one yard deeper. When I returned on board, I
was nearly suffocated by the carbonic acid with which the air was
filled-ah! if we had only the chemical means to drive away this
deleterious gas. We had plenty of oxygen; all this water contained a
considerable quantity, and by dissolving it with our powerful piles, it
would restore the vivifying fluid. I had thought well over it; but of what
good was that, since the carbonic acid produced by our respiration had
invaded every part of the vessel? To absorb it, it was necessary to fill
some jars with caustic potash, and to shake them incessantly. Now this
substance was wanting on board, and nothing could replace it. On that
evening, Captain Nemo ought to open the taps of his reservoirs, and let
some pure air into the interior of the Nautilus; without this precaution
we could not get rid of the sense of suffocation. The next day, March
26th, I resumed my miner's work in beginning the fifth yard. The side
walls and the lower surface of the iceberg thickened visibly. It was
evident that they would meet before the Nautilus was able to disengage
itself. Despair seized me for an instant; my pickaxe nearly fell from my
hands. What was the good of digging if I must be suffocated, crushed by
the water that was turning into stone?-a punishment that the ferocity of
the savages even would not have invented! Just then Captain Nemo passed
near me. I touched his hand and showed him the walls of our prison. The
wall to port had advanced to at least four yards from the hull of the
Nautilus. The Captain understood me, and signed me to follow him. We went
on board. I took off my cork-jacket and accompanied him into the
drawing-room.
"M. Aronnax, we must attempt some desperate means, or we shall be
sealed up in this solidified water as in cement."
"Yes; but what is to be done?"
"Ah! if my Nautilus were strong enough to bear this pressure without
being crushed!"
"Well?" I asked, not catching the Captain's idea.
"Do you not understand," he replied, "that this congelation of water
will help us? Do you not see that by its solidification, it would burst
through this field of ice that imprisons us, as, when it freezes, it
bursts the hardest stones? Do you not perceive that it would be an agent
of safety instead of destruction?"
"Yes, Captain, perhaps. But, whatever resistance to crushing the
Nautilus possesses, it could not support this terrible pressure, and would
be flattened like an iron plate."
"I know it, sir. Therefore we must not reckon on the aid of nature, but
on our own exertions. We must stop this solidification. Not only will the
side walls be pressed together; but there is not ten feet of water before
or behind the Nautilus. The congelation gains on us on all sides."
"How long will the air in the reservoirs last for us to breathe on
board?"
The Captain looked in my face. "After to-morrow they will be empty!"
A cold sweat came over me. However, ought I to have been astonished at
the answer? On March 22, the Nautilus was in the open polar seas. We were
at 26O. For five days we had lived on the reserve on board. And what was
left of the respirable air must be kept for the workers. Even now, as I
write, my recollection is still so vivid that an involuntary terror seizes
me and my lungs seem to be without air. Meanwhile, Captain Nemo reflected
silently, and evidently an idea had struck him; but he seemed to reject
it. At last, these words escaped his lips:
"Boiling water!" he muttered.
"Boiling water?" I cried.
"Yes, sir. We are enclosed in a space that is relatively confined.
Would not jets of boiling water, constantly injected by the pumps, raise
the temperature in this part and stay the congelation?"
"Let us try it," I said resolutely.
"Let us try it, Professor."
The thermometer then stood at 7O outside. Captain Nemo took me to the
galleys, where the vast distillatory machines stood that furnished the
drinkable water by evaporation. They filled these with water, and all the
electric heat from the piles was thrown through the worms bathed in the
liquid. In a few minutes this water reached 100O. It was directed towards
the pumps, while fresh water replaced it in proportion. The heat developed
by the troughs was such that cold water, drawn up from the sea after only
having gone through the machines, came boiling into the body of the pump.
The injection was begun, and three hours after the thermometer marked 6O
below zero outside. One degree was gained. Two hours later the thermometer
only marked 4O.
"We shall succeed," I said to the Captain, after having anxiously
watched the result of the operation.
"I think," he answered, "that we shall not be crushed. We have no more
thick, judging from the deadened sound. We had in deed "struck," to use a
sea expression, but in an inverse sense, and at a thousand feet deep. This
would give three thousand feet of ice above us; one thousand being above
the water-mark. The iceberg was then higher than at its borders-not a very
reassuring fact. Several times that day the Nautilus tried again, and
every time it struck the wall which lay like a ceiling above it. Sometimes
it met with but 900 yards, only 200 of which rose above the surface. It
was twice the height it was when the Nautilus had gone under the waves. I
carefully noted the different depths, and thus obtained a submarine
profile of the chain as it was developed under the water. That night no
change had taken place in our situation. Still ice between four and five
hundred yards in depth! It was evidently diminishing, but, still, what a
thickness between us and the surface of the ocean! It was then eight.
According to the daily custom on board the Nautilus, its air should have
been renewed four hours ago; but I did not suffer much, although Captain
Nemo had not yet made any demand upon his reserve of oxygen. My sleep was
painful that night; hope and fear besieged me by turns: I rose several
times. The groping of the Nautilus continued. About three in the morning,
I noticed that the lower surface of the iceberg was only about fifty feet
deep. One hundred and fifty feet now separated us from the surface of the
waters. The iceberg was by degrees becoming an ice-field, the mountain a
plain. My eyes never left the manometer. We were still rising diagonally
to the surface, which sparkled under the electric rays. The iceberg was
stretching both above and beneath into lengthening slopes; mile after mile
it was getting thinner. At length, at six in the morning of that memorable
day, the 19th of March, the door of the saloon opened, and Captain Nemo
appeared.
"The sea is open!!" was all he said.
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 3O 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 77O 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 2O below zero. The fog was rising, and I hoped that that day our
observations might be taken. Captain Nemo not having yet appeared, the
boat took Conseil and myself to land. The soil was still of the same
volcanic nature; everywhere were traces of lava, scoriae, and basalt; but
the crater which had vomited them I could not see. Here, as lower down,
this continent was alive with myriads of birds. But their rule was now
divided with large troops of sea-mammals, looking at us with their soft
eyes. There were several kinds of seals, some stretched on the earth, some
on flakes of ice, many going in and out of the sea. They did not flee at
our approach, never having had anything to do with man; and I reckoned
that there were provisions there for hundreds of vessels.
"Sir," said Conseil, "will you tell me the names of these creatures?"
"They are seals and morses."
It was now eight in the morning. Four hours remained to us before the
sun could be observed with advantage. I directed our steps towards a vast
bay cut in the steep granite shore. There, I can aver that earth and ice
were lost to sight by the numbers of sea-mammals covering them, and I
involuntarily sought for old Proteus, the mythological shepherd who
watched these immense flocks of Neptune. There were more seals than
anything else, forming distinct groups, male and female, the father
watching over his family, the mother suckling her little ones, some
already strong enough to go a few steps. When they wished to change their
place, they took little jumps, made by the contraction of their bodies,
and helped awkwardly enough by their imperfect fin, which, as with the
lamantin, their cousins, forms a perfect forearm. I should say that, in
the water, which is their element-the spine of these creatures is
flexible; with smooth and close skin and webbed feet-they swim admirably.
In resting on the earth they take the most graceful attitudes. Thus the
ancients, observing their soft and expressive looks, which cannot be
surpassed by the most beautiful look a woman can give, their clear
voluptuous eyes, their charming positions, and the poetry of their
manners, metamorphosed them, the male into a triton and the female into a
mermaid. I made Conseil notice the considerable development of the lobes
of the brain in these interesting cetaceans. No mammal, except man, has
such a quantity of brain matter; they are also capable of receiving a
certain amount of education, are easily domesticated, and I think, with
other naturalists, that if properly taught they would be of great service
as fishing-dogs. The greater part of them slept on the rocks or on the
sand. Amongst these seals, properly so called, which have no external ears
(in which they differ from the otter, whose ears are prominent), I noticed
several varieties of seals about three yards long, with a white coat,
bulldog heads, armed with teeth in both jaws, four incisors at the top and
four at the bottom, and two large canine teeth in the shape of a
fleur-de-lis. Amongst them glided sea-elephants, a kind of seal, with
short, flexible trunks. The giants of this species measured twenty feet
round and ten yards and a half in length; but they did not move as we
approached.
"These creatures are not dangerous?" asked Conseil.
"No; not unless you attack them. When they have to defend their young
their rage is terrible, and it is not uncommon for them to break the
fishing-boats to pieces."
"They are quite right," said Conseil.
"I do not say they are not."
Two miles farther on we were stopped by the promontory which shelters
the bay from the southerly winds. Beyond it we heard loud bellowings such
as a troop of ruminants would produce.
"Good!" said Conseil; "a concert of bulls!"
"No; a concert of morses."
"They are fighting!"
"They are either fighting or playing."
We now began to climb the blackish rocks, amid unforeseen stumbles, and
over stones which the ice made slippery. More than once I rolled over at
the expense of my loins. Conseil, more prudent or more steady, did not
stumble, and helped me up, saying:
"If, sir, you would have the kindness to take wider steps, you would
preserve your equilibrium better."
Arrived at the upper ridge of the promontory, I saw a vast white plain
covered with morses. They were playing amongst themselves, and what we
heard were bellowings of pleasure, not of anger.
As I passed these curious animals I could examine them leisurely, for
they did not move. Their skins were thick and rugged, of a yellowish tint,
approaching to red; their hair was short and scant. Some of them were four
yards and a quarter long. Quieter and less timid than their cousins of the
north, they did not, like them, place sentinels round the outskirts of
their encampment. After examining this city of morses, I began to think of
returning. It was eleven o'clock, and, if Captain Nemo found the
conditions favourable for observations, I wished to be present at the
operation. We followed a narrow pathway running along the summit of the
steep shore. At half-past eleven we had reached the place where we landed.
The boat had run aground, bringing the Captain. I saw him standing on a
block of basalt, his instruments near him, his eyes fixed on the northern
horizon, near which the sun was then describing a lengthened curve. I took
my place beside him, and waited without speaking. Noon arrived, and, as
before, the sun did not appear. It was a fatality. Observations were still
wanting. If not accomplished to-morrow, we must give up all idea of taking
any. We were indeed exactly at the 20th of March. To-morrow, the 21st,
would be the equinox; the sun would disappear behind the horizon for six
months, and with its disappearance the long polar night would begin. Since
the September equinox it had emerged from the northern horizon, rising by
lengthened spirals up to the 21st of December. At this period, the summer
solstice of the northern regions, it had begun to descend; and to-morrow
was to shed its last rays upon them. I communicated my fears and
observations to Captain Nemo.
"You are right, M. Aronnax," said he; "if to-morrow I cannot take the
altitude of the sun, I shall not be able to do it for six months. But
precisely because chance has led me into these seas on the 21st of March,
my bearings will be easy to take, if at twelve we can see the sun."
"Why, Captain?"
"Because then the orb of day described such lengthened curves that it
is difficult to measure exactly its height above the horizon, and grave
errors may be made with instruments."
"What will you do then?"
"I shall only use my chronometer," replied Captain Nemo. "If to-morrow,
the 21st of March, the disc of the sun, allowing for refraction, is
exactly cut by the northern horizon, it will show that I am at the South
Pole."
"Just so," said I. "But this statement is not mathematically correct,
because the equinox does not necessarily begin at noon."
"Very likely, sir; but the error will not be a hundred yards and we do
not want more. Till to-morrow, then!"
Captain Nemo returned on board. Conseil and I remained to survey the
shore, observing and studying until five o'clock. Then I went to bed, not,
however, without invoking, like the Indian, the favour of the radiant orb.
The next day, the 21st of March, at five in the morning, I mounted the
platform. I found Captain Nemo there.
"The weather is lightening a little," said he. "I have some hope. After
breakfast we will go on shore and choose a post for observation."
That point settled, I sought Ned Land. I wanted to take him with me.
But the obstinate Canadian refused, and I saw that his taciturnity and his
bad humour grew day by day. After all, I was not sorry for his obstinacy
under the circumstances. Indeed, there were too many seals on shore, and
we ought not to lay such temptation in this unreflecting fisherman's way.
Breakfast over, we went on shore. The Nautilus had gone some miles further
up in the night. It was a whole league from the coast, above which reared
a sharp peak about five hundred yards high. The boat took with me Captain
Nemo, two men of the crew, and the instruments, which consisted of a
chronometer, a telescope, and a barometer. While crossing, I saw numerous
whales belonging to the three kinds peculiar to the southern seas; the
whale, or the English "right whale," which has no dorsal fin; the
"humpback," with reeved chest and large, whitish fins, which, in spite of
its name, do not form wings; and the fin-back, of a yellowish brown, the
liveliest of all the cetacea. This powerful creature is heard a long way
off when he throws to a great height columns of air and vapour, which look
like whirlwinds of smoke. These different mammals were disporting
themselves in troops in the quiet waters; and I could see that this basin
of the Antarctic Pole serves as a place of refuge to the cetacea too
closely tracked by the hunters. I also noticed large medusae floating
between the reeds.
At nine we landed; the sky was brightening, the clouds were flying to
the south, and the fog seemed to be leaving the cold surface of the
waters. Captain Nemo went towards the peak, which he doubtless meant to be
his observatory. It was a painful ascent over the sharp lava and the
pumice-stones, in an atmosphere often impregnated with a sulphurous smell
from the smoking cracks. For a man unaccustomed to walk on land, the
Captain climbed the steep slopes with an agility I never saw equalled and
which a hunter would have envied. We were two hours getting to the summit
of this peak, which was half porphyry and half basalt. From thence we
looked upon a vast sea which, towards the north, distinctly traced its
boundary line upon the sky. At our feet lay fields of dazzling whiteness.
Over our heads a pale azure, free from fog. To the north the disc of the
sun seemed like a ball of fire, already horned by the cutting of the
horizon. From the bosom of the water rose sheaves of liquid jets by
hundreds. In the distance lay the Nautilus like a cetacean asleep on the
water. Behind us, to the south and east, an immense country and a chaotic
heap of rocks and ice, the limits of which were not visible. On arriving
at the summit Captain Nemo carefully took the mean height of the
barometer, for he would have to consider that in taking his observations.
At a quarter to twelve the sun, then seen only by refraction, looked like
a golden disc shedding its last rays upon this deserted continent and seas
which never man had yet ploughed. Captain Nemo, furnished with a
lenticular glass which, by means of a mirror, corrected the refraction,
watched the orb sinking below the horizon by degrees, following a
lengthened diagonal. I held the chronometer. My heart beat fast. If the
disappearance of the half-disc of the sun coincided with twelve o'clock on
the chronometer, we were at the pole itself.
"Twelve!" I exclaimed.
"The South Pole!" replied Captain Nemo, in a grave voice, handing me
the glass, which showed the orb cut in exactly equal parts by the horizon.
I looked at the last rays crowning the peak, and the shadows mounting
by degrees up its slopes. At that moment Captain Nemo, resting with his
hand on my shoulder, said:
"I, Captain Nemo, on this 21st day of March, 1868, have reached the
South Pole on the ninetieth degree; and I take possession of this part of
the globe, equal to one-sixth of the known continents."
"In whose name, Captain?"
"In my own, sir!"
Saying which, Captain Nemo unfurled a black banner, bearing an "N" in
gold quartered on its bunting. Then, turning towards the orb of day, whose
last rays lapped the horizon of the sea, he exclaimed:
"Adieu, sun! Disappear, thou radiant orb! rest beneath this open sea,
and let a night of six months spread its shadows over my new domains!"
The next day, the 22nd of March, at six in the morning, preparations
for departure were begun. The last gleams of twilight were melting into
night. The cold was great, the constellations shone with wonderful
intensity. In the zenith glittered that wondrous Southern Cross- the polar
bear of Antarctic regions. The thermometer showed 120 below zero, and when
the wind freshened it was most biting. Flakes of ice increased on the open
water. The sea seemed everywhere alike. Numerous blackish patches spread
on the surface, showing the formation of fresh ice. Evidently the southern
basin, frozen during the six winter months, was absolutely inaccessible.
What became of the whales in that time? Doubtless they went beneath the
icebergs, seeking more practicable seas. As to the seals and morses,
accustomed to live in a hard climate, they remained on these icy shores.
These creatures have the instinct to break holes in the ice-field and to
keep them open. To these holes they come for breath; when the birds,
driven away by the cold, have emigrated to the north, these sea mammals
remain sole masters of the polar continent. But the reservoirs were
filling with water, and the Nautilus was slowly descending. At 1,000 feet
deep it stopped; its screw beat the waves, and it advanced straight
towards the north at a speed of fifteen miles an hour. Towards night it
was already floating under the immense body of the iceberg. At three in
the morning I was awakened by a violent shock. I sat up in my bed and
listened in the darkness, when I was thrown into the middle of the room.
The Nautilus, after having struck, had rebounded violently. I groped along
the partition, and by the staircase to the saloon, which was lit by the
luminous ceiling. The furniture was upset. Fortunately the windows were
firmly set, and had held fast. The pictures on the starboard side, from
being no longer vertical, were clinging to the paper, whilst those of the
port side were hanging at least a foot from the wall. The Nautilus was
lying on its starboard side perfectly motionless. I heard footsteps, and a
confusion of voices; but Captain Nemo did not appear. As I was leaving the
saloon, Ned Land and Conseil entered.
"What is the matter?" said I, at once.
"I came to ask you, sir," replied Conseil.
"Confound it!" exclaimed the Canadian, "I know well enough! The
Nautilus has struck; and, judging by the way she lies, I do not think she
will right herself as she did the first time in Torres Straits."
"But," I asked, "has she at least come to the surface of the sea?"
"We do not know," said Conseil.
"It is easy to decide," I answered. I consulted the manometer. To my
great surprise, it showed a depth of more than 180 fathoms. "What does
that mean?" I exclaimed.
"We must ask Captain Nemo," said Conseil.
"But where shall we find him?" said Ned Land.
"Follow me," said I, to my companions.
We left the saloon. There was no one in the library. At the centre
staircase, by the berths of the ship's crew, there was no one. I thought
that Captain Nemo must be in the pilot's cage. It was best to wait. We all
returned to the saloon. For twenty minutes we remained thus, trying to
hear the slightest noise which might be made on board the Nautilus, when
Captain Nemo entered. He seemed not to see us; his face, generally so
impassive, showed signs of uneasiness. He watched the compass silently,
then the manometer; and, going to the planisphere, placed his finger on a
spot representing the southern seas. I would not interrupt him; but, some
minutes later, when he turned towards me, I said, using one of his own
expressions in the Torres Straits:
"An incident, Captain?"
"No, sir; an accident this time."
"Serious?"
"Perhaps."
"Is the danger immediate?"
"No."
"The Nautilus has stranded?"
"Yes."
"And this has happened-how?"
"From a caprice of nature, not from the ignorance of man. Not a mistake
has been made in the working. But we cannot prevent equilibrium from
producing its effects. We may brave human laws, but we cannot resist
natural ones."
Captain Nemo had chosen a strange moment for uttering this
philosophical reflection. On the whole, his answer helped me little.
"May I ask, sir, the cause of this accident?"
"An enormous block of ice, a whole mountain, has turned over," he
replied. "When icebergs are undermined at their base by warmer water or
reiterated shocks their centre of gravity rises, and the whole thing turns
over. This is what has happened; one of these blocks, as it fell, struck
the Nautilus, then, gliding under its hull, raised it with irresistible
force, bringing it into beds which are not so thick, where it is lying on
its side."
"But can we not get the Nautilus off by emptying its reservoirs, that
it might regain its equilibrium?"
"That, sir, is being done at this moment. You can hear the pump
working. Look at the needle of the manometer; it shows that the Nautilus
is rising, but the block of ice is floating with it; and, until some
obstacle stops its ascending motion, our position cannot be altered."
Indeed, the Nautilus still held the same position to starboard;
doubtless it would right itself when the block stopped. But at this moment
who knows if we may not be frightfully crushed between the two glassy
surfaces? I reflected on all the consequences of our position. Captain
Nemo never took his eyes off the manometer. Since the fall of the iceberg,
the Nautilus had risen about a hundred and fifty feet, but it still made
the same angle with the perpendicular. Suddenly a slight movement was felt
in the hold. Evidently it was righting a little. Things hanging in the
saloon were sensibly returning to their normal position. The partitions
were nearing the upright. No one spoke. With beating hearts we watched and
felt the straightening. The boards became horizontal under our feet. Ten
minutes passed.
"At last we have righted!" I exclaimed.
"Yes," said Captain Nemo, going to the door of the saloon.
"But are we floating?" I asked.
"Certainly," he replied; "since the reservoirs are not empty; and, when
empty, the Nautilus must rise to the surface of the sea."
We were in open sea; but at a distance of about ten yards, on either
side of the Nautilus, rose a dazzling wall of ice. Above and beneath the
same wall. Above, because the lower surface of the iceberg stretched over
us like an immense ceiling. Beneath, because the overturned block, having
slid by degrees, had found a resting-place on the lateral walls, which
kept it in that position. The Nautilus was really imprisoned in a perfect
tunnel of ice more than twenty yards in breadth, filled with quiet water.
It was easy to get out of it by going either forward or backward, and then
make a free passage under the iceberg, some hundreds of yards deeper. The
luminous ceiling had been extinguished, but the saloon was still
resplendent with intense light. It was the powerful reflection from the
glass partition sent violently back to the sheets of the lantern. I cannot
describe the effect of the voltaic rays upon the great blocks so
capriciously cut; upon every angle, every ridge, every facet was thrown a
different light, according to the nature of the veins running through the
ice; a dazzling mine of gems, particularly of sapphires, their blue rays
crossing with the green of the emerald. Here and there were opal shades of
wonderful softness, running through bright spots like diamonds of fire,
the brilliancy of which the eye could not bear. The power of the lantern
seemed increased a hundredfold, like a lamp through the lenticular plates
of a first-class lighthouse.
"How beautiful! how beautiful!" cried Conseil.
"Yes," I said, "it is a wonderful sight. Is it not, Ned?"
"Yes, confound it! Yes," answered Ned Land, "it is superb! I am mad at
being obliged to admit it. No one has ever seen anything like it; but the
sight may cost us dear. And, if I must say all, I think we are seeing here
things which God never intended man to see."
Ned was right, it was too beautiful. Suddenly a cry from Conseil made
me turn.
"What is it?" I asked.
"Shut your eyes, sir! Do not look, sir!" Saying which, Conseil clapped
his hands over his eyes.
"But what is the matter, my boy?"
"I am dazzled, blinded."
My eyes turned involuntarily towards the glass, but I could not stand
the fire which seemed to devour them. I understood what had happened. The
Nautilus had put on full speed. All the quiet lustre of the ice-walls was
at once changed into flashes of lightning. The fire from these myriads of
diamonds was blinding. It required some time to calm our troubled looks.
At last the hands were taken down.
"Faith, I should never have believed it," said Conseil.
It was then five in the morning; and at that moment a shock was felt at
the bows of the Nautilus. I knew that its spur had struck a block of ice.
It must have been a false manoeuvre, for this submarine tunnel, obstructed
by blocks, was not very easy navigation. I thought that Captain Nemo, by
changing his course, would either turn these obstacles or else follow the
windings of the tunnel. In any case, the road before us could not be
entirely blocked. But, contrary to my expectations, the Nautilus took a
decided retrograde motion.
"We are going backwards?" said Conseil.
"Yes," I replied. "This end of the tunnel can have no egress."
"And then?"
"Then," said I, "the working is easy. We must go back again, and go out
at the southern opening. That is all."
In speaking thus, I wished to appear more confident than I really was.
But the retrograde motion of the Nautilus was increasing; and, reversing
the screw, it carried us at great speed.
"It will be a hindrance," said Ned.
"What does it matter, some hours more or less, provided we get out at
last?"
"Yes," repeated Ned Land, "provided we do get out at last!"
For a short time I walked from the saloon to the library. My companions
were silent. I soon threw myself on an ottoman, and took a book, which my
eyes overran mechanically. A quarter of an hour after, Conseil,
approaching me, said, "Is what you are reading very interesting, sir?"
"Very interesting!" I replied.
"I should think so, sir. It is your own book you are reading."
"My book?"
And indeed I was holding in my hand the work on the Great Submarine
Depths. I did not even dream of it. I closed the book and returned to my
walk. Ned and Conseil rose to go.
"Stay here, my friends," said I, detaining them. "Let us remain
together until we are out of this block."
"As you please, sir," Conseil replied.
Some hours passed. I often looked at the instruments hanging from the
partition. The manometer showed that the Nautilus kept at a constant depth
of more than three hundred yards; the compass still pointed to south; the
log indicated a speed of twenty miles an hour, which, in such a cramped
space, was very great. But Captain Nemo knew that he could not hasten too
much, and that minutes were worth ages to us. At twenty-five minutes past
eight a second shock took place, this time from behind. I turned pale. My
companions were close by my side. I seized Conseil's hand. Our looks
expressed our feelings better than words. At this moment the Captain
entered the saloon. I went up to him.
"Our course is barred southward?" I asked.
"Yes, sir. The iceberg has shifted and closed every outlet."
"We are blocked up then?"
"Yes."
Thus around the Nautilus, above and below, was an impenetrable wall of
ice. We were prisoners to the iceberg. I watched the Captain. His
countenance had resumed its habitual imperturbability.
"Gentlemen," he said calmly, "there are two ways of dying in the
circumstances in which we are placed." (This puzzling person had the air
of a mathematical professor lecturing to his pupils.) "The first is to be
crushed; the second is to die of suffocation. I do not speak of the
possibility of dying of hunger, for the supply of provisions in the
Nautilus will certainly last longer than we shall. Let us, then, calculate
our chances."
"As to suffocation, Captain," I replied, "that is not to be feared,
because our reservoirs are full."
"Just so; but they will only yield two days' supply of air. Now, for
thirty-six hours we have been hidden under the water, and already the
heavy atmosphere of the Nautilus requires renewal. In forty-eight hours
our reserve will be exhausted."
"Well, Captain, can we be delivered before forty-eight hours?"
"We will attempt it, at least, by piercing the wall that surrounds us."
"On which side?"
"Sound will tell us. I am going to run the Nautilus aground on the
lower bank, and my men will attack the iceberg on the side that is least
thick."
Captain Nemo went out. Soon I discovered by a hissing noise that the
water was entering the reservoirs. The Nautilus sank slowly, and rested on
the ice at a depth of 350 yards, the depth at which the lower bank was
immersed.
"My friends," I said, "our situation is serious, but I rely on your
courage and energy."
"Sir," replied the Canadian, "I am ready to do anything for the general
safety."
"Good! Ned," and I held out my hand to the Canadian.
"I will add," he continued, "that, being as handy with the pickaxe as
with the harpoon, if I can be useful to the Captain, he can command my
services."
"He will not refuse your help. Come, Ned!"
I led him to the room where the crew of the Nautilus were putting on
their cork-jackets. I told the Captain of Ned's proposal, which he
accepted. The Canadian put on his sea-costume, and was ready as soon as
his companions. When Ned was dressed, I re-entered the drawing-room, where
the panes of glass were open, and, posted near Conseil, I examined the
ambient beds that supported the Nautilus. Some instants after, we saw a
dozen of the crew set foot on the bank of ice, and among them Ned Land,
easily known by his stature. Captain Nemo was with them. Before proceeding
to dig the walls, he took the soundings, to be sure of working in the
right direction. Long sounding lines were sunk in the side walls, but
after fifteen yards they were again stopped by the thick wall. It was
useless to attack it on the ceiling-like surface, since the iceberg itself
measured more than 400 yards in height. Captain Nemo then sounded the
lower surface. There ten yards of wall separated us from the water, so
great was the thickness of the ice-field. It was necessary, therefore, to
cut from it a piece equal in extent to the waterline of the Nautilus.
There were about 6,000 cubic yards to detach, so as to dig a hole by which
we could descend to the ice-field. The work had begun immediately and
carried on with indefatigable energy. Instead of digging round the
Nautilus which would have involved greater difficulty, Captain Nemo had an
immense trench made at eight yards from the port-quarter. Then the men set
to work simultaneously with their screws on several points of its
circumference. Presently the pickaxe attacked this compact matter
vigorously, and large blocks were detached from the mass. By a curious
effect of specific gravity, these blocks, lighter than water, fled, so to
speak, to the vault of the tunnel, that increased in thickness at the top
in proportion as it diminished at the base. But that mattered little, so
long as the lower part grew thinner. After two hours' hard work, Ned Land
came in exhausted. He and his comrades were replaced by new workers, whom
Conseil and I joined. The second lieutenant of the Nautilus superintended
us. The water seemed singularly cold, but I soon got warm handling the
pickaxe. My movements were free enough, although they were made under a
pressure of thirty atmospheres. When I re-entered, after working two
hours, to take some food and rest, I found a perceptible difference
between the pure fluid with which the Rouquayrol engine supplied me and
the atmosphere of the Nautilus, already charged with carbonic acid. The
air had not been renewed for forty-eight hours, and its vivifying
qualities were considerably enfeebled. However, after a lapse of twelve
hours, we had only raised a block of ice one yard thick, on the marked
surface, which was about 600 cubic yards! Reckoning that it took twelve
hours to accomplish this much it would take five nights and four days to
bring this enterprise to a satisfactory conclusion. Five nights and four
days! And we have only air enough for two days in the reservoirs! "Without
taking into account," said Ned, "that, even if we get out of this infernal
prison, we shall also be imprisoned under the iceberg, shut out from all
possible communication with the atmosphere." True enough! Who could then
foresee the minimum of time necessary for our deliverance? We might be
suffocated before the Nautilus could regain the surface of the waves? Was
it destined to perish in this ice-tomb, with all those it enclosed? The
situation was terrible. But everyone had looked the danger in the face,
and each was determined to do his duty to the last.
As I expected, during the night a new block a yard square was carried
away, and still further sank the immense hollow. But in the morning when,
dressed in my cork-jacket, I traversed the slushy mass at a temperature of
six or seven degrees below zero, I remarked that the side walls were
gradually closing in. The beds of water farthest from the trench, that
were not warmed by the men's work, showed a tendency to solidification. In
presence of this new and imminent danger, what would become of our chances
of safety, and how hinder the solidification of this liquid medium, that
would burst the partitions of the Nautilus like glass?
I did not tell my companions of this new danger. What was the good of
damping the energy they displayed in the painful work of escape? But when
I went on board again, I told Captain Nemo of this grave complication.
"I know it," he said, in that calm tone which could counteract the most
terrible apprehensions. "It is one danger more; but I see no way of
escaping it; the only chance of safety is to go quicker than
solidification. We must be beforehand with it, that is all."
On this day for several hours I used my pickaxe vigorously. The work
kept me up. Besides, to work was to quit the Nautilus, and breathe
directly the pure air drawn from the reservoirs, and supplied by our
apparatus, and to quit the impoverished and vitiated atmosphere. Towards
evening the trench was dug one yard deeper. When I returned on board, I
was nearly suffocated by the carbonic acid with which the air was
filled-ah! if we had only the chemical means to drive away this
deleterious gas. We had plenty of oxygen; all this water contained a
considerable quantity, and by dissolving it with our powerful piles, it
would restore the vivifying fluid. I had thought well over it; but of what
good was that, since the carbonic acid produced by our respiration had
invaded every part of the vessel? To absorb it, it was necessary to fill
some jars with caustic potash, and to shake them incessantly. Now this
substance was wanting on board, and nothing could replace it. On that
evening, Captain Nemo ought to open the taps of his reservoirs, and let
some pure air into the interior of the Nautilus; without this precaution
we could not get rid of the sense of suffocation. The next day, March
26th, I resumed my miner's work in beginning the fifth yard. The side
walls and the lower surface of the iceberg thickened visibly. It was
evident that they would meet before the Nautilus was able to disengage
itself. Despair seized me for an instant; my pickaxe nearly fell from my
hands. What was the good of digging if I must be suffocated, crushed by
the water that was turning into stone?-a punishment that the ferocity of
the savages even would not have invented! Just then Captain Nemo passed
near me. I touched his hand and showed him the walls of our prison. The
wall to port had advanced to at least four yards from the hull of the
Nautilus. The Captain understood me, and signed me to follow him. We went
on board. I took off my cork-jacket and accompanied him into the
drawing-room.
"M. Aronnax, we must attempt some desperate means, or we shall be
sealed up in this solidified water as in cement."
"Yes; but what is to be done?"
"Ah! if my Nautilus were strong enough to bear this pressure without
being crushed!"
"Well?" I asked, not catching the Captain's idea.
"Do you not understand," he replied, "that this congelation of water
will help us? Do you not see that by its solidification, it would burst
through this field of ice that imprisons us, as, when it freezes, it
bursts the hardest stones? Do you not perceive that it would be an agent
of safety instead of destruction?"
"Yes, Captain, perhaps. But, whatever resistance to crushing the
Nautilus possesses, it could not support this terrible pressure, and would
be flattened like an iron plate."
"I know it, sir. Therefore we must not reckon on the aid of nature, but
on our own exertions. We must stop this solidification. Not only will the
side walls be pressed together; but there is not ten feet of water before
or behind the Nautilus. The congelation gains on us on all sides."
"How long will the air in the reservoirs last for us to breathe on
board?"
The Captain looked in my face. "After to-morrow they will be empty!"
A cold sweat came over me. However, ought I to have been astonished at
the answer? On March 22, the Nautilus was in the open polar seas. We were
at 26O. For five days we had lived on the reserve on board. And what was
left of the respirable air must be kept for the workers. Even now, as I
write, my recollection is still so vivid that an involuntary terror seizes
me and my lungs seem to be without air. Meanwhile, Captain Nemo reflected
silently, and evidently an idea had struck him; but he seemed to reject
it. At last, these words escaped his lips:
"Boiling water!" he muttered.
"Boiling water?" I cried.
"Yes, sir. We are enclosed in a space that is relatively confined.
Would not jets of boiling water, constantly injected by the pumps, raise
the temperature in this part and stay the congelation?"
"Let us try it," I said resolutely.
"Let us try it, Professor."
The thermometer then stood at 7O outside. Captain Nemo took me to the
galleys, where the vast distillatory machines stood that furnished the
drinkable water by evaporation. They filled these with water, and all the
electric heat from the piles was thrown through the worms bathed in the
liquid. In a few minutes this water reached 100O. It was directed towards
the pumps, while fresh water replaced it in proportion. The heat developed
by the troughs was such that cold water, drawn up from the sea after only
having gone through the machines, came boiling into the body of the pump.
The injection was begun, and three hours after the thermometer marked 6O
below zero outside. One degree was gained. Two hours later the thermometer
only marked 4O.
"We shall succeed," I said to the Captain, after having anxiously
watched the result of the operation.
"I think," he answered, "that we shall not be crushed. We have no more