"You are right, Conseil. It is a foolish affair after all, and one upon
which we entered too lightly. What time lost, what useless emotions! We
should have been back in France six months ago."
"In your little room, sir," replied Conseil, "and in your museum, sir;
and I should have already classed all your fossils, sir. And the
Babiroussa would have been installed in its cage in the Jardin des
Plantes, and have drawn all the curious people of the capital!"
"As you say, Conseil. I fancy we shall run a fair chance of being
laughed at for our pains."
"That's tolerably certain," replied Conseil, quietly; "I think they
will make fun of you, sir. And, must I say it-?"
"Go on, my good friend."
"Well, sir, you will only get your deserts."
"Indeed!"
"When one has the honour of being a savant as you are, sir, one should
not expose one's self to-"
Conseil had not time to finish his compliment. In the midst of general
silence a voice had just been heard. It was the voice of Ned Land
shouting:
"Look out there! The very thing we are looking for - on our weather
beam!"
At this cry the whole ship's crew hurried towards the harpooner-
commander, officers, masters, sailors, cabin boys; even the engineers left
their engines, and the stokers their furnaces.
The order to stop her had been given, and the frigate now simply went
on by her own momentum. The darkness was then profound, and, however good
the Canadian's eyes were, I asked myself how he had managed to see, and
what he had been able to see. My heart beat as if it would break. But Ned
Land was not mistaken, and we all perceived the object he pointed to. At
two cables' length from the Abraham Lincoln, on the starboard quarter, the
sea seemed to be illuminated all over. It was not a mere phosphoric
phenomenon. The monster emerged some fathoms from the water, and then
threw out that very intense but mysterious light mentioned in the report
of several captains. This magnificent irradiation must have been produced
by an agent of great SHINING power. The luminous part traced on the sea an
immense oval, much elongated, the centre of which condensed a burning
heat, whose overpowering brilliancy died out by successive gradations.
"It is only a massing of phosphoric particles," cried one of the
officers.
"No, sir, certainly not," I replied. "That brightness is of an
essentially electrical nature. Besides, see, see! it moves; it is moving
forwards, backwards; it is darting towards us!"
A general cry arose from the frigate.
"Silence!" said the captain. "Up with the helm, reverse the engines."
The steam was shut off, and the Abraham Lincoln, beating to port,
described a semicircle.
"Right the helm, go ahead," cried the captain.
These orders were executed, and the frigate moved rapidly from the
burning light.
I was mistaken. She tried to sheer off, but the supernatural animal
approached with a velocity double her own.
We gasped for breath. Stupefaction more than fear made us dumb and
motionless. The animal gained on us, sporting with the waves. It made the
round of the frigate, which was then making fourteen knots, and enveloped
it with its electric rings like luminous dust.
Then it moved away two or three miles, leaving a phosphorescent track,
like those volumes of steam that the express trains leave behind. All at
once from the dark line of the horizon whither it retired to gain its
momentum, the monster rushed suddenly towards the Abraham Lincoln with
alarming rapidity, stopped suddenly about twenty feet from the hull, and
died out-not diving under the water, for its brilliancy did not abate-but
suddenly, and as if the source of this brilliant emanation was exhausted.
Then it reappeared on the other side of the vessel, as if it had turned
and slid under the hull. Any moment a collision might have occurred which
would have been fatal to us. However, I was astonished at the manoeuvres
of the frigate. She fled and did not attack.
On the captain's face, generally so impassive, was an expression of
unaccountable astonishment.
"Mr. Aronnax," he said, "I do not know with what formidable being I
have to deal, and I will not imprudently risk my frigate in the midst of
this darkness. Besides, how attack this unknown thing, how defend one's
self from it? Wait for daylight, and the scene will change."
"You have no further doubt, captain, of the nature of the animal?"
"No, sir; it is evidently a gigantic narwhal, and an electric one."
"Perhaps," added I, "one can only approach it with a torpedo."
"Undoubtedly," replied the captain, "if it possesses such dreadful
power, it is the most terrible animal that ever was created. That is why,
sir, I must be on my guard."
The crew were on their feet all night. No one thought of sleep. The
Abraham Lincoln, not being able to struggle with such velocity, had
moderated its pace, and sailed at half speed. For its part, the narwhal,
imitating the frigate, let the waves rock it at will, and seemed decided
not to leave the scene of the struggle. Towards midnight, however, it
disappeared, or, to use a more appropriate term, it "died out" like a
large glow-worm. Had it fled? One could only fear, not hope it. But at
seven minutes to one o'clock in the morning a deafening whistling was
heard, like that produced by a body of water rushing with great violence.
The captain, Ned Land, and I were then on the poop, eagerly peering
through the profound darkness.
"Ned Land," asked the commander, "you have often heard the roaring of
whales?"
"Often, sir; but never such whales the sight of which brought me in two
thousand dollars. If I can only approach within four harpoons' length of
it!"
"But to approach it," said the commander, "I ought to put a whaler at
your disposal?"
"Certainly, sir."
"That will be trifling with the lives of my men."
"And mine too," simply said the harpooner.
Towards two o'clock in the morning, the burning light reappeared, not
less intense, about five miles to windward of the Abraham Lincoln.
Notwithstanding the distance, and the noise of the wind and sea, one heard
distinctly the loud strokes of the animal's tail, and even its panting
breath. It seemed that, at the moment that the enormous narwhal had come
to take breath at the surface of the water, the air was engulfed in its
lungs, like the steam in the vast cylinders of a machine of two thousand
horse-power.
"Hum!" thought I, "a whale with the strength of a cavalry regiment
would be a pretty whale!"
We were on the qui vive till daylight, and prepared for the combat. The
fishing implements were laid along the hammock nettings. The second
lieutenant loaded the blunder busses, which could throw harpoons to the
distance of a mile, and long duck-guns, with explosive bullets, which
inflicted mortal wounds even to the most terrible animals. Ned Land
contented himself with sharpening his harpoon-a terrible weapon in his
hands.
At six o'clock day began to break; and, with the first glimmer of
light, the electric light of the narwhal disappeared. At seven o'clock the
day was sufficiently advanced, but a very thick sea fog obscured our view,
and the best spy glasses could not pierce it. That caused disappointment
and anger.
I climbed the mizzen-mast. Some officers were already perched on the
mast-heads. At eight o'clock the fog lay heavily on the waves, and its
thick scrolls rose little by little. The horizon grew wider and clearer at
the same time. Suddenly, just as on the day before, Ned Land's voice was
heard:
"The thing itself on the port quarter!" cried the harpooner.
Every eye was turned towards the point indicated. There, a mile and a
half from the frigate, a long blackish body emerged a yard above the
waves. Its tail, violently agitated, produced a considerable eddy. Never
did a tail beat the sea with such violence. An immense track, of dazzling
whiteness, marked the passage of the animal, and described a long curve.
The frigate approached the cetacean. I examined it thoroughly.
The reports of the Shannon and of the Helvetia had rather exaggerated
its size, and I estimated its length at only two hundred and fifty feet.
As to its dimensions, I could only conjecture them to be admirably
proportioned. While I watched this phenomenon, two jets of steam and water
were ejected from its vents, and rose to the height of 120 feet; thus I
ascertained its way of breathing. I concluded definitely that it belonged
to the vertebrate branch, class mammalia.
The crew waited impatiently for their chief's orders. The latter, after
having observed the animal attentively, called the engineer. The engineer
ran to him.
"Sir," said the commander, "you have steam up?"
"Yes, sir," answered the engineer.
"Well, make up your fires and put on all steam."
Three hurrahs greeted this order. The time for the struggle had
arrived. Some moments after, the two funnels of the frigate vomited
torrents of black smoke, and the bridge quaked under the trembling of the
boilers.
The Abraham Lincoln, propelled by her wonderful screw, went straight at
the animal. The latter allowed it to come within half a cable's length;
then, as if disdaining to dive, it took a little turn, and stopped a short
distance off.
This pursuit lasted nearly three-quarters of an hour, without the
frigate gaining two yards on the cetacean. It was quite evident that at
that rate we should never come up with it.
"Well, Mr. Land," asked the captain, "do you advise me to put the boats
out to sea?"
"No, sir," replied Ned Land; "because we shall not take that beast
easily."
"What shall we do then?"
"Put on more steam if you can, sir. With your leave, I mean to post
myself under the bowsprit, and, if we get within harpooning distance, I
shall throw my harpoon."
"Go, Ned," said the captain. "Engineer, put on more pressure."
Ned Land went to his post. The fires were increased, the screw revolved
forty-three times a minute, and the steam poured out of the valves. We
heaved the log, and calculated that the Abraham Lincoln was going at the
rate of 18 1/2 miles an hour.
But the accursed animal swam at the same speed.
For a whole hour the frigate kept up this pace, without gaining six
feet. It was humiliating for one of the swiftest sailers in the American
navy. A stubborn anger seized the crew; the sailors abused the monster,
who, as before, disdained to answer them; the captain no longer contented
himself with twisting his beard-he gnawed it.
The engineer was called again.
"You have turned full steam on?"
"Yes, sir," replied the engineer.
The speed of the Abraham Lincoln increased. Its masts trembled down to
their stepping holes, and the clouds of smoke could hardly find way out of
the narrow funnels.
They heaved the log a second time.
"Well?" asked the captain of the man at the wheel.
"Nineteen miles and three-tenths, sir."
"Clap on more steam."
The engineer obeyed. The manometer showed ten degrees. But the cetacean
grew warm itself, no doubt; for without straining itself, it made 19 3/10
miles.
What a pursuit! No, I cannot describe the emotion that vibrated through
me. Ned Land kept his post, harpoon in hand. Several times the animal let
us gain upon it.-"We shall catch it! we shall catch it!" cried the
Canadian. But just as he was going to strike, the cetacean stole away with
a rapidity that could not be estimated at less than thirty miles an hour,
and even during our maximum of speed, it bullied the frigate, going round
and round it. A cry of fury broke from everyone!
At noon we were no further advanced than at eight o'clock in the
morning.
The captain then decided to take more direct means.
"Ah!" said he, "that animal goes quicker than the Abraham Lincoln. Very
well! we will see whether it will escape these conical bullets. Send your
men to the forecastle, sir."
The forecastle gun was immediately loaded and slewed round. But the
shot passed some feet above the cetacean, which was half a mile off.
"Another, more to the right," cried the commander, "and five dollars to
whoever will hit that infernal beast."
An old gunner with a grey beard-that I can see now-with steady eye and
grave face, went up to the gun and took a long aim. A loud report was
heard, with which were mingled the cheers of the crew.
The bullet did its work; it hit the animal, and, sliding off the
rounded surface, was lost in two miles depth of sea.
The chase began again, and the captain, leaning towards me, said:
"I will pursue that beast till my frigate bursts up."
"Yes," answered I; "and you will be quite right to do it."
I wished the beast would exhaust itself, and not be insensible to
fatigue like a steam engine. But it was of no use. Hours passed, without
its showing any signs of exhaustion.
However, it must be said in praise of the Abraham Lincoln that she
struggled on indefatigably. I cannot reckon the distance she made under
three hundred miles during this unlucky day, November the 6th. But night
came on, and overshadowed the rough ocean.
Now I thought our expedition was at an end, and that we should never
again see the extraordinary animal. I was mistaken. At ten minutes to
eleven in the evening, the electric light reappeared three miles to
windward of the frigate, as pure, as intense as during the preceding
night.
The narwhal seemed motionless; perhaps, tired with its day's work, it
slept, letting itself float with the undulation of the waves. Now was a
chance of which the captain resolved to take advantage.
He gave his orders. The Abraham Lincoln kept up half steam, and
advanced cautiously so as not to awake its adversary. It is no rare thing
to meet in the middle of the ocean whales so sound asleep that they can be
successfully attacked, and Ned Land had harpooned more than one during its
sleep. The Canadian went to take his place again under the bowsprit.
The frigate approached noiselessly, stopped at two cables' lengths from
the animal, and following its track. No one breathed; a deep silence
reigned on the bridge. We were not a hundred feet from the burning focus,
the light of which increased and dazzled our eyes.
At this moment, leaning on the forecastle bulwark, I saw below me Ned
Land grappling the martingale in one hand, brandishing his terrible
harpoon in the other, scarcely twenty feet from the motionless animal.
Suddenly his arm straightened, and the harpoon was thrown; I heard the
sonorous stroke of the weapon, which seemed to have struck a hard body.
The electric light went out suddenly, and two enormous waterspouts broke
over the bridge of the frigate, rushing like a torrent from stem to stern,
overthrowing men, and breaking the lashings of the spars. A fearful shock
followed, and, thrown over the rail without having time to stop myself, I
fell into the sea.
This unexpected fall so stunned me that I have no clear recollection of
my sensations at the time. I was at first drawn down to a depth of about
twenty feet. I am a good swimmer (though without pretending to rival Byron
or Edgar Poe, who were masters of the art), and in that plunge I did not
lose my presence of mind. Two vigorous strokes brought me to the surface
of the water. My first care was to look for the frigate. Had the crew seen
me disappear? Had the Abraham Lincoln veered round? Would the captain put
out a boat? Might I hope to be saved?
The darkness was intense. I caught a glimpse of a black mass
disappearing in the east, its beacon lights dying out in the distance. It
was the frigate! I was lost.
"Help, help!" I shouted, swimming towards the Abraham Lincoln in
desperation.
My clothes encumbered me; they seemed glued to my body, and paralysed
my movements.
I was sinking! I was suffocating!
"Help!"
This was my last cry. My mouth filled with water; I struggled against
being drawn down the abyss. Suddenly my clothes were seized by a strong
hand, and I felt myself quickly drawn up to the surface of the sea; and I
heard, yes, I heard these words pronounced in my ear:
"If master would be so good as to lean on my shoulder, master would
swim with much greater ease."
I seized with one hand my faithful Conseil's arm.
"Is it you?" said I, "you?"
"Myself," answered Conseil; "and waiting master's orders."
"That shock threw you as well as me into the sea?"
"No; but, being in my master's service, I followed him."
The worthy fellow thought that was but natural.
"And the frigate?" I asked.
"The frigate?" replied Conseil, turning on his back; "I think that
master had better not count too much on her."
"You think so?"
"I say that, at the time I threw myself into the sea, I heard the men
at the wheel say, `The screw and the rudder are broken.'
"Broken?"
"Yes, broken by the monster's teeth. It is the only injury the Abraham
Lincoln has sustained. But it is a bad look-out for us- she no longer
answers her helm."
"Then we are lost!"
"Perhaps so," calmly answered Conseil. "However, we have still several
hours before us, and one can do a good deal in some hours."
Conseil's imperturbable coolness set me up again. I swam more
vigorously; but, cramped by my clothes, which stuck to me like a leaden
weight, I felt great difficulty in bearing up. Conseil saw this.
"Will master let me make a slit?" said he; and, slipping an open knife
under my clothes, he ripped them up from top to bottom very rapidly. Then
he cleverly slipped them off me, while I swam for both of us.
Then I did the same for Conseil, and we continued to swim near to each
other.
Nevertheless, our situation was no less terrible. Perhaps our
disappearance had not been noticed; and, if it had been, the frigate could
not tack, being without its helm. Conseil argued on this supposition, and
laid his plans accordingly. This quiet boy was perfectly self-possessed.
We then decided that, as our only chance of safety was being picked up by
the Abraham Lincoln's boats, we ought to manage so as to wait for them as
long as possible. I resolved then to husband our strength, so that both
should not be exhausted at the same time; and this is how we managed:
while one of us lay on our back, quite still, with arms crossed, and legs
stretched out, the other would swim and push the other on in front. This
towing business did not last more than ten minutes each; and relieving
each other thus, we could swim on for some hours, perhaps till day-break.
Poor chance! but hope is so firmly rooted in the heart of man! Moreover,
there were two of us. Indeed I declare (though it may seem improbable) if
I sought to destroy all hope-if I wished to despair, I could not.
The collision of the frigate with the cetacean had occurred about
eleven o'clock in the evening before. I reckoned then we should have eight
hours to swim before sunrise, an operation quite practicable if we
relieved each other. The sea, very calm, was in our favour. Sometimes I
tried to pierce the intense darkness that was only dispelled by the
phosphorescence caused by our movements. I watched the luminous waves that
broke over my hand, whose mirror-like surface was spotted with silvery
rings. One might have said that we were in a bath of quicksilver.
Near one o'clock in the morning, I was seized with dreadful fatigue. My
limbs stiffened under the strain of violent cramp. Conseil was obliged to
keep me up, and our preservation devolved on him alone. I heard the poor
boy pant; his breathing became short and hurried. I found that he could
not keep up much longer.
"Leave me! leave me!" I said to him.
"Leave my master? Never!" replied he. "I would drown first."
Just then the moon appeared through the fringes of a thick cloud that
the wind was driving to the east. The surface of the sea glittered with
its rays. This kindly light reanimated us. My head got better again. I
looked at all points of the horizon. I saw the frigate! She was five miles
from us, and looked like a dark mass, hardly discernible. But no boats!
I would have cried out. But what good would it have been at such a
distance! My swollen lips could utter no sounds. Conseil could articulate
some words, and I heard him repeat at intervals, "Help! help!"
Our movements were suspended for an instant; we listened. It might be
only a singing in the ear, but it seemed to me as if a cry answered the
cry from Conseil.
"Did you hear?" I murmured.
"Yes! Yes!"
And Conseil gave one more despairing cry.
This time there was no mistake! A human voice responded to ours! Was it
the voice of another unfortunate creature, abandoned in the middle of the
ocean, some other victim of the shock sustained by the vessel? Or rather
was it a boat from the frigate, that was hailing us in the darkness?
Conseil made a last effort, and, leaning on my shoulder, while I struck
out in a desperate effort, he raised himself half out of the water, then
fell back exhausted.
"What did you see?"
"I saw-" murmured he; "I saw-but do not talk-reserve all your strength!"
What had he seen? Then, I know not why, the thought of the monster came
into my head for the first time! But that voice! The time is past for
Jonahs to take refuge in whales' bellies! However, Conseil was towing me
again. He raised his head sometimes, looked before us, and uttered a cry
of recognition, which was responded to by a voice that came nearer and
nearer. I scarcely heard it. My strength was exhausted; my fingers
stiffened; my hand afforded me support no longer; my mouth, convulsively
opening, filled with salt water. Cold crept over me. I raised my head for
the last time, then I sank.
At this moment a hard body struck me. I clung to it: then I felt that I
was being drawn up, that I was brought to the surface of the water, that
my chest collapsed-I fainted.
It is certain that I soon came to, thanks to the vigorous rubbings that
I received. I half opened my eyes.
"Conseil!" I murmured.
"Does master call me?" asked Conseil.
Just then, by the waning light of the moon which was sinking down to
the horizon, I saw a face which was not Conseil's and which I immediately
recognised.
"Ned!" I cried.
"The same, sir, who is seeking his prize!" replied the Canadian.
"Were you thrown into the sea by the shock to the frigate?"
"Yes, Professor; but more fortunate than you, I was able to find a
footing almost directly upon a floating island."
"An island?"
"Or, more correctly speaking, on our gigantic narwhal."
"Explain yourself, Ned!"
"Only I soon found out why my harpoon had not entered its skin and was
blunted."
"Why, Ned, why?"
"Because, Professor, that beast is made of sheet iron."
The Canadian's last words produced a sudden revolution in my brain. I
wriggled myself quickly to the top of the being, or object, half out of
the water, which served us for a refuge. I kicked it. It was evidently a
hard, impenetrable body, and not the soft substance that forms the bodies
of the great marine mammalia. But this hard body might be a bony covering,
like that of the antediluvian animals; and I should be free to class this
monster among amphibious reptiles, such as tortoises or alligators.
Well, no! the blackish back that supported me was smooth, polished,
without scales. The blow produced a metallic sound; and, incredible though
it may be, it seemed, I might say, as if it was made of riveted plates.
There was no doubt about it! This monster, this natural phenomenon that
had puzzled the learned world, and over thrown and misled the imagination
of seamen of both hemispheres, it must be owned was a still more
astonishing phenomenon, inasmuch as it was a simply human construction.
We had no time to lose, however. We were lying upon the back of a sort
of submarine boat, which appeared (as far as I could judge) like a huge
fish of steel. Ned Land's mind was made up on this point. Conseil and I
could only agree with him.
Just then a bubbling began at the back of this strange thing (which was
evidently propelled by a screw), and it began to move. We had only just
time to seize hold of the upper part, which rose about seven feet out of
the water, and happily its speed was not great.
"As long as it sails horizontally," muttered Ned Land, "I do not mind;
but, if it takes a fancy to dive, I would not give two straws for my
life."
The Canadian might have said still less. It became really necessary to
communicate with the beings, whatever they were, shut up inside the
machine. I searched all over the outside for an aperture, a panel, or a
manhole, to use a technical expression; but the lines of the iron rivets,
solidly driven into the joints of the iron plates, were clear and uniform.
Besides, the moon disappeared then, and left us in total darkness.
At last this long night passed. My indistinct remembrance prevents my
describing all the impressions it made. I can only recall one
circumstance. During some lulls of the wind and sea, I fancied I heard
several times vague sounds, a sort of fugitive harmony produced by words
of command. What was, then, the mystery of this submarine craft, of which
the whole world vainly sought an explanation? What kind of beings existed
in this strange boat? What mechanical agent caused its prodigious speed?
Daybreak appeared. The morning mists surrounded us, but they soon
cleared off. I was about to examine the hull, which formed on deck a kind
of horizontal platform, when I felt it gradually sinking.
"Oh! confound it!" cried Ned Land, kicking the resounding plate. "Open,
you inhospitable rascals!"
Happily the sinking movement ceased. Suddenly a noise, like iron works
violently pushed aside, came from the interior of the boat. One iron plate
was moved, a man appeared, uttered an odd cry, and disappeared
immediately.
Some moments after, eight strong men, with masked faces, appeared
noiselessly, and drew us down into their formidable machine.
This forcible abduction, so roughly carried out, was accomplished with
the rapidity of lightning. I shivered all over. Whom had we to deal with?
No doubt some new sort of pirates, who explored the sea in their own way.
Hardly had the narrow panel closed upon me, when I was enveloped in
darkness. My eyes, dazzled with the outer light, could distinguish
nothing. I felt my naked feet cling to the rungs of an iron ladder. Ned
Land and Conseil, firmly seized, followed me. At the bottom of the ladder,
a door opened, and shut after us immediately with a bang.
We were alone. Where, I could not say, hardly imagine. All was black,
and such a dense black that, after some minutes, my eyes had not been able
to discern even the faintest glimmer.
Meanwhile, Ned Land, furious at these proceedings, gave free vent to
his indignation.
"Confound it!" cried he, "here are people who come up to the Scotch for
hospitality. They only just miss being cannibals. I should not be
surprised at it, but I declare that they shall not eat me without my
protesting."
"Calm yourself, friend Ned, calm yourself," replied Conseil, quietly.
"Do not cry out before you are hurt. We are not quite done for yet."
"Not quite," sharply replied the Canadian, "but pretty near, at all
events. Things look black. Happily, my bowie knife I have still, and I can
always see well enough to use it. The first of these pirates who lays a
hand on me-"
"Do not excite yourself, Ned," I said to the harpooner, "and do not
compromise us by useless violence. Who knows that they will not listen to
us? Let us rather try to find out where we are."
I groped about. In five steps I came to an iron wall, made of plates
bolted together. Then turning back I struck against a wooden table, near
which were ranged several stools. The boards of this prison were concealed
under a thick mat, which deadened the noise of the feet. The bare walls
revealed no trace of window or door. Conseil, going round the reverse way,
met me, and we went back to the middle of the cabin, which measured about
twenty feet by ten. As to its height, Ned Land, in spite of his own great
height, could not measure it.
Half an hour had already passed without our situation being bettered,
when the dense darkness suddenly gave way to extreme light. Our prison was
suddenly lighted, that is to say, it became filled with a luminous matter,
so strong that I could not bear it at first. In its whiteness and
intensity I recognised that electric light which played round the
submarine boat like a magnificent phenomenon of phosphorescence. After
shutting my eyes involuntarily, I opened them, and saw that this luminous
agent came from a half globe, unpolished, placed in the roof of the cabin.
"At last one can see," cried Ned Land, who, knife in hand, stood on the
defensive.
"Yes," said I; "but we are still in the dark about ourselves."
"Let master have patience," said the imperturbable Conseil.
The sudden lighting of the cabin enabled me to examine it minutely. It
only contained a table and five stools. The invisible door might be
hermetically sealed. No noise was heard. All seemed dead in the interior
of this boat. Did it move, did it float on the surface of the ocean, or
did it dive into its depths? I could not guess.
A noise of bolts was now heard, the door opened, and two men appeared.
One was short, very muscular, broad-shouldered, with robust limbs,
strong head, an abundance of black hair, thick moustache, a quick
penetrating look, and the vivacity which characterises the population of
Southern France.
The second stranger merits a more detailed description. I made out his
prevailing qualities directly: self-confidence-because his head was well
set on his shoulders, and his black eyes looked around with cold
assurance; calmness-for his skin, rather pale, showed his coolness of
blood; energy-evinced by the rapid contraction of his lofty brows; and
courage-because his deep breathing denoted great power of lungs.
Whether this person was thirty-five or fifty years of age, I could not
say. He was tall, had a large forehead, straight nose, a clearly cut
mouth, beautiful teeth, with fine taper hands, indicative of a highly
nervous temperament. This man was certainly the most admirable specimen I
had ever met. One particular feature was his eyes, rather far from each
other, and which could take in nearly a quarter of the horizon at once.
This faculty-(I verified it later)-gave him a range of vision far
superior to Ned Land's. When this stranger fixed upon an object, his
eyebrows met, his large eyelids closed around so as to contract the range
of his vision, and he looked as if he magnified the objects lessened by
distance, as if he pierced those sheets of water so opaque to our eyes,
and as if he read the very depths of the seas.
The two strangers, with caps made from the fur of the sea otter, and
shod with sea boots of seal's skin, were dressed in clothes of a
particular texture, which allowed free movement of the limbs. The taller
of the two, evidently the chief on board, examined us with great
attention, without saying a word; then, turning to his companion, talked
with him in an unknown tongue. It was a sonorous, harmonious, and flexible
dialect, the vowels seeming to admit of very varied accentuation.
The other replied by a shake of the head, and added two or three
perfectly incomprehensible words. Then he seemed to question me by a look.
I replied in good French that I did not know his language; but he
seemed not to understand me, and my situation became more embarrassing.
"If master were to tell our story," said Conseil, "perhaps these
gentlemen may understand some words."
I began to tell our adventures, articulating each syllable clearly, and
without omitting one single detail. I announced our names and rank,
introducing in person Professor Aronnax, his servant Conseil, and master
Ned Land, the harpooner.
The man with the soft calm eyes listened to me quietly, even politely,
and with extreme attention; but nothing in his countenance indicated that
he had understood my story. When I finished, he said not a word.
There remained one resource, to speak English. Perhaps they would know
this almost universal language. I knew it-as well as the German
language-well enough to read it fluently, but not to speak it correctly.
But, anyhow, we must make ourselves understood.
"Go on in your turn," I said to the harpooner; "speak your best
Anglo-Saxon, and try to do better than I."
Ned did not beg off, and recommenced our story.
To his great disgust, the harpooner did not seem to have made himself
more intelligible than I had. Our visitors did not stir. They evidently
understood neither the language of England nor of France.
Very much embarrassed, after having vainly exhausted our speaking
resources, I knew not what part to take, when Conseil said:
"If master will permit me, I will relate it in German."
But in spite of the elegant terms and good accent of the narrator, the
German language had no success. At last, nonplussed, I tried to remember
my first lessons, and to narrate our adventures in Latin, but with no
better success. This last attempt being of no avail, the two strangers
exchanged some words in their unknown language, and retired.
The door shut.
"It is an infamous shame," cried Ned Land, who broke out for the
twentieth time. "We speak to those rogues in French, English, German, and
Latin, and not one of them has the politeness to answer!"
"Calm yourself," I said to the impetuous Ned; "anger will do no good."
"But do you see, Professor," replied our irascible companion, "that we
shall absolutely die of hunger in this iron cage?"
"Bah!" said Conseil, philosophically; "we can hold out some time yet."
"My friends," I said, "we must not despair. We have been worse off than
this. Do me the favour to wait a little before forming an opinion upon the
commander and crew of this boat."
"My opinion is formed," replied Ned Land, sharply. "They are rascals."
"Good! and from what country?"
"From the land of rogues!"
"My brave Ned, that country is not clearly indicated on the map of the
world; but I admit that the nationality of the two strangers is hard to
determine. Neither English, French, nor German, that is quite certain.
However, I am inclined to think that the commander and his companion were
born in low latitudes. There is southern blood in them. But I cannot
decide by their appearance whether they are Spaniards, Turks, Arabians, or
Indians. As to their language, it is quite incomprehensible."
"There is the disadvantage of not knowing all languages," said Conseil,
"or the disadvantage of not having one universal language."
As he said these words, the door opened. A steward entered. He brought
us clothes, coats and trousers, made of a stuff I did not know. I hastened
to dress myself, and my companions followed my example. During that time,
the steward-dumb, perhaps deaf-had arranged the table, and laid three
plates.
"This is something like!" said Conseil.
"Bah!" said the angry harpooner, "what do you suppose they eat here?
Tortoise liver, filleted shark, and beef steaks from seadogs."
"We shall see," said Conseil.
The dishes, of bell metal, were placed on the table, and we took our
places. Undoubtedly we had to do with civilised people, and, had it not
been for the electric light which flooded us, I could have fancied I was
in the dining-room of the Adelphi Hotel at Liverpool, or at the Grand
Hotel in Paris. I must say, however, that there was neither bread nor
wine. The water was fresh and clear, but it was water and did not suit Ned
Land's taste. Amongst the dishes which were brought to us, I recognised
several fish delicately dressed; but of some, although excellent, I could
give no opinion, neither could I tell to what kingdom they belonged,
whether animal or vegetable. As to the dinner-service, it was elegant, and
in perfect taste. Each utensil-spoon, fork, knife, plate-had a letter
engraved on it, with a motto above it, of which this is an exact
facsimile:
MOBILIS IN MOBILI N
The letter N was no doubt the initial of the name of the enigmatical
person who commanded at the bottom of the seas.
Ned and Conseil did not reflect much. They devoured the food, and I did
likewise. I was, besides, reassured as to our fate; and it seemed evident
that our hosts would not let us die of want.
However, everything has an end, everything passes away, even the hunger
of people who have not eaten for fifteen hours. Our appetites satisfied,
we felt overcome with sleep.
"Faith! I shall sleep well," said Conseil.
"So shall I," replied Ned Land.
My two companions stretched themselves on the cabin carpet, and were
soon sound asleep. For my own part, too many thoughts crowded my brain,
too many insoluble questions pressed upon me, too many fancies kept my
eyes half open. Where were we? What strange power carried us on? I felt-or
rather fancied I felt- the machine sinking down to the lowest beds of the
sea. Dreadful nightmares beset me; I saw in these mysterious asylums a
world of unknown animals, amongst which this submarine boat seemed to be
of the same kind, living, moving, and formidable as they. Then my brain
grew calmer, my imagination wandered into vague unconsciousness, and I
soon fell into a deep sleep.
How long we slept I do not know; but our sleep must have lasted long,
for it rested us completely from our fatigues. I woke first. My companions
had not moved, and were still stretched in their corner.
Hardly roused from my somewhat hard couch, I felt my brain freed, my
mind clear. I then began an attentive examination of our cell. Nothing was
changed inside. The prison was still a prison- the prisoners, prisoners.
However, the steward, during our sleep, had cleared the table. I breathed
with difficulty. The heavy air seemed to oppress my lungs. Although the
cell was large, we had evidently consumed a great part of the oxygen that
it contained. Indeed, each man consumes, in one hour, the oxygen contained
in more than 176 pints of air, and this air, charged (as then) with a
nearly equal quantity of carbonic acid, becomes unbreathable.
It became necessary to renew the atmosphere of our prison, and no doubt
the whole in the submarine boat. That gave rise to a question in my mind.
How would the commander of this floating dwelling-place proceed? Would he
obtain air by chemical means, in getting by heat the oxygen contained in
chlorate of potash, and in absorbing carbonic acid by caustic potash? Or-a
more convenient, economical, and consequently more probable alternative-
would he be satisfied to rise and take breath at the surface of the water,
like a whale, and so renew for twenty-four hours the atmospheric
provision?
In fact, I was already obliged to increase my respirations to eke out
of this cell the little oxygen it contained, when suddenly I was refreshed
by a current of pure air, and perfumed with saline emanations. It was an
invigorating sea breeze, charged with iodine. I opened my mouth wide, and
my lungs saturated themselves with fresh particles.
At the same time I felt the boat rolling. The iron-plated monster had
evidently just risen to the surface of the ocean to breathe, after the
fashion of whales. I found out from that the mode of ventilating the boat.
When I had inhaled this air freely, I sought the conduit pipe, which
conveyed to us the beneficial whiff, and I was not long in finding it.
Above the door was a ventilator, through which volumes of fresh air
renewed the impoverished atmosphere of the cell.
I was making my observations, when Ned and Conseil awoke almost at the
same time, under the influence of this reviving air. They rubbed their
eyes, stretched themselves, and were on their feet in an instant.
"Did master sleep well?" asked Conseil, with his usual politeness.
"Very well, my brave boy. And you, Mr. Land?"
"Soundly, Professor. But, I don't know if I am right or not, there
seems to be a sea breeze!"
A seaman could not be mistaken, and I told the Canadian all that had
passed during his sleep.
"Good!" said he. "That accounts for those roarings we heard, when the
supposed narwhal sighted the Abraham Lincoln."
"Quite so, Master Land; it was taking breath."
"Only, Mr. Aronnax, I have no idea what o'clock it is, unless it is
dinner-time."
"Dinner-time! my good fellow? Say rather breakfast-time, for we
certainly have begun another day."
"So," said Conseil, "we have slept twenty-four hours?"
"That is my opinion."
"I will not contradict you," replied Ned Land. "But, dinner or
breakfast, the steward will be welcome, whichever he brings."
"Master Land, we must conform to the rules on board, and I suppose our
appetites are in advance of the dinner hour."
"That is just like you, friend Conseil," said Ned, impatiently. "You
are never out of temper, always calm; you would return thanks before
grace, and die of hunger rather than complain!"
Time was getting on, and we were fearfully hungry; and this time the
steward did not appear. It was rather too long to leave us, if they really
had good intentions towards us. Ned Land, tormented by the cravings of
hunger, got still more angry; and, notwithstanding his promise, I dreaded
an explosion when he found himself with one of the crew.
For two hours more Ned Land's temper increased; he cried, he shouted,
but in vain. The walls were deaf. There was no sound to be heard in the
boat; all was still as death. It did not move, for I should have felt the
trembling motion of the hull under the influence of the screw. Plunged in
the depths of the waters, it belonged no longer to earth: this silence was
dreadful.
I felt terrified, Conseil was calm, Ned Land roared.
Just then a noise was heard outside. Steps sounded on the metal flags.
The locks were turned, the door opened, and the steward appeared.
Before I could rush forward to stop him, the Canadian had thrown him
down, and held him by the throat. The steward was choking under the grip
of his powerful hand.
Conseil was already trying to unclasp the harpooner's hand from his
half-suffocated victim, and I was going to fly to the rescue, when
suddenly I was nailed to the spot by hearing these words in French:
"Be quiet, Master Land; and you, Professor, will you be so good as to
listen to me?"
It was the commander of the vessel who thus spoke.
At these words, Ned Land rose suddenly. The steward, nearly strangled,
tottered out on a sign from his master. But such was the power of the
commander on board, that not a gesture betrayed the resentment which this
man must have felt towards the Canadian. Conseil interested in spite of
himself, I stupefied, awaited in silence the result of this scene.
The commander, leaning against the corner of a table with his arms
folded, scanned us with profound attention. Did he hesitate to speak? Did
he regret the words which he had just spoken in French? One might almost
think so.
After some moments of silence, which not one of us dreamed of breaking,
"Gentlemen," said he, in a calm and penetrating voice, "I speak French,
English, German, and Latin equally well. I could, therefore, have answered
you at our first interview, but I wished to know you first, then to
reflect. The story told by each one, entirely agreeing in the main points,
convinced me of your identity. I know now that chance has brought before
me M. Pierre Aronnax, Professor of Natural History at the Museum of Paris,
entrusted with a scientific mission abroad, Conseil, his servant, and Ned
Land, of Canadian origin, harpooner on board the frigate Abraham Lincoln
of the navy of the United States of America."
I bowed assent. It was not a question that the commander put to me.
Therefore there was no answer to be made. This man expressed himself with
perfect ease, without any accent. His sentences were well turned, his
words clear, and his fluency of speech remarkable. Yet, I did not
recognise in him a fellow-countryman.
He continued the conversation in these terms:
"You have doubtless thought, sir, that I have delayed long in paying
you this second visit. The reason is that, your identity recognised, I
which we entered too lightly. What time lost, what useless emotions! We
should have been back in France six months ago."
"In your little room, sir," replied Conseil, "and in your museum, sir;
and I should have already classed all your fossils, sir. And the
Babiroussa would have been installed in its cage in the Jardin des
Plantes, and have drawn all the curious people of the capital!"
"As you say, Conseil. I fancy we shall run a fair chance of being
laughed at for our pains."
"That's tolerably certain," replied Conseil, quietly; "I think they
will make fun of you, sir. And, must I say it-?"
"Go on, my good friend."
"Well, sir, you will only get your deserts."
"Indeed!"
"When one has the honour of being a savant as you are, sir, one should
not expose one's self to-"
Conseil had not time to finish his compliment. In the midst of general
silence a voice had just been heard. It was the voice of Ned Land
shouting:
"Look out there! The very thing we are looking for - on our weather
beam!"
At this cry the whole ship's crew hurried towards the harpooner-
commander, officers, masters, sailors, cabin boys; even the engineers left
their engines, and the stokers their furnaces.
The order to stop her had been given, and the frigate now simply went
on by her own momentum. The darkness was then profound, and, however good
the Canadian's eyes were, I asked myself how he had managed to see, and
what he had been able to see. My heart beat as if it would break. But Ned
Land was not mistaken, and we all perceived the object he pointed to. At
two cables' length from the Abraham Lincoln, on the starboard quarter, the
sea seemed to be illuminated all over. It was not a mere phosphoric
phenomenon. The monster emerged some fathoms from the water, and then
threw out that very intense but mysterious light mentioned in the report
of several captains. This magnificent irradiation must have been produced
by an agent of great SHINING power. The luminous part traced on the sea an
immense oval, much elongated, the centre of which condensed a burning
heat, whose overpowering brilliancy died out by successive gradations.
"It is only a massing of phosphoric particles," cried one of the
officers.
"No, sir, certainly not," I replied. "That brightness is of an
essentially electrical nature. Besides, see, see! it moves; it is moving
forwards, backwards; it is darting towards us!"
A general cry arose from the frigate.
"Silence!" said the captain. "Up with the helm, reverse the engines."
The steam was shut off, and the Abraham Lincoln, beating to port,
described a semicircle.
"Right the helm, go ahead," cried the captain.
These orders were executed, and the frigate moved rapidly from the
burning light.
I was mistaken. She tried to sheer off, but the supernatural animal
approached with a velocity double her own.
We gasped for breath. Stupefaction more than fear made us dumb and
motionless. The animal gained on us, sporting with the waves. It made the
round of the frigate, which was then making fourteen knots, and enveloped
it with its electric rings like luminous dust.
Then it moved away two or three miles, leaving a phosphorescent track,
like those volumes of steam that the express trains leave behind. All at
once from the dark line of the horizon whither it retired to gain its
momentum, the monster rushed suddenly towards the Abraham Lincoln with
alarming rapidity, stopped suddenly about twenty feet from the hull, and
died out-not diving under the water, for its brilliancy did not abate-but
suddenly, and as if the source of this brilliant emanation was exhausted.
Then it reappeared on the other side of the vessel, as if it had turned
and slid under the hull. Any moment a collision might have occurred which
would have been fatal to us. However, I was astonished at the manoeuvres
of the frigate. She fled and did not attack.
On the captain's face, generally so impassive, was an expression of
unaccountable astonishment.
"Mr. Aronnax," he said, "I do not know with what formidable being I
have to deal, and I will not imprudently risk my frigate in the midst of
this darkness. Besides, how attack this unknown thing, how defend one's
self from it? Wait for daylight, and the scene will change."
"You have no further doubt, captain, of the nature of the animal?"
"No, sir; it is evidently a gigantic narwhal, and an electric one."
"Perhaps," added I, "one can only approach it with a torpedo."
"Undoubtedly," replied the captain, "if it possesses such dreadful
power, it is the most terrible animal that ever was created. That is why,
sir, I must be on my guard."
The crew were on their feet all night. No one thought of sleep. The
Abraham Lincoln, not being able to struggle with such velocity, had
moderated its pace, and sailed at half speed. For its part, the narwhal,
imitating the frigate, let the waves rock it at will, and seemed decided
not to leave the scene of the struggle. Towards midnight, however, it
disappeared, or, to use a more appropriate term, it "died out" like a
large glow-worm. Had it fled? One could only fear, not hope it. But at
seven minutes to one o'clock in the morning a deafening whistling was
heard, like that produced by a body of water rushing with great violence.
The captain, Ned Land, and I were then on the poop, eagerly peering
through the profound darkness.
"Ned Land," asked the commander, "you have often heard the roaring of
whales?"
"Often, sir; but never such whales the sight of which brought me in two
thousand dollars. If I can only approach within four harpoons' length of
it!"
"But to approach it," said the commander, "I ought to put a whaler at
your disposal?"
"Certainly, sir."
"That will be trifling with the lives of my men."
"And mine too," simply said the harpooner.
Towards two o'clock in the morning, the burning light reappeared, not
less intense, about five miles to windward of the Abraham Lincoln.
Notwithstanding the distance, and the noise of the wind and sea, one heard
distinctly the loud strokes of the animal's tail, and even its panting
breath. It seemed that, at the moment that the enormous narwhal had come
to take breath at the surface of the water, the air was engulfed in its
lungs, like the steam in the vast cylinders of a machine of two thousand
horse-power.
"Hum!" thought I, "a whale with the strength of a cavalry regiment
would be a pretty whale!"
We were on the qui vive till daylight, and prepared for the combat. The
fishing implements were laid along the hammock nettings. The second
lieutenant loaded the blunder busses, which could throw harpoons to the
distance of a mile, and long duck-guns, with explosive bullets, which
inflicted mortal wounds even to the most terrible animals. Ned Land
contented himself with sharpening his harpoon-a terrible weapon in his
hands.
At six o'clock day began to break; and, with the first glimmer of
light, the electric light of the narwhal disappeared. At seven o'clock the
day was sufficiently advanced, but a very thick sea fog obscured our view,
and the best spy glasses could not pierce it. That caused disappointment
and anger.
I climbed the mizzen-mast. Some officers were already perched on the
mast-heads. At eight o'clock the fog lay heavily on the waves, and its
thick scrolls rose little by little. The horizon grew wider and clearer at
the same time. Suddenly, just as on the day before, Ned Land's voice was
heard:
"The thing itself on the port quarter!" cried the harpooner.
Every eye was turned towards the point indicated. There, a mile and a
half from the frigate, a long blackish body emerged a yard above the
waves. Its tail, violently agitated, produced a considerable eddy. Never
did a tail beat the sea with such violence. An immense track, of dazzling
whiteness, marked the passage of the animal, and described a long curve.
The frigate approached the cetacean. I examined it thoroughly.
The reports of the Shannon and of the Helvetia had rather exaggerated
its size, and I estimated its length at only two hundred and fifty feet.
As to its dimensions, I could only conjecture them to be admirably
proportioned. While I watched this phenomenon, two jets of steam and water
were ejected from its vents, and rose to the height of 120 feet; thus I
ascertained its way of breathing. I concluded definitely that it belonged
to the vertebrate branch, class mammalia.
The crew waited impatiently for their chief's orders. The latter, after
having observed the animal attentively, called the engineer. The engineer
ran to him.
"Sir," said the commander, "you have steam up?"
"Yes, sir," answered the engineer.
"Well, make up your fires and put on all steam."
Three hurrahs greeted this order. The time for the struggle had
arrived. Some moments after, the two funnels of the frigate vomited
torrents of black smoke, and the bridge quaked under the trembling of the
boilers.
The Abraham Lincoln, propelled by her wonderful screw, went straight at
the animal. The latter allowed it to come within half a cable's length;
then, as if disdaining to dive, it took a little turn, and stopped a short
distance off.
This pursuit lasted nearly three-quarters of an hour, without the
frigate gaining two yards on the cetacean. It was quite evident that at
that rate we should never come up with it.
"Well, Mr. Land," asked the captain, "do you advise me to put the boats
out to sea?"
"No, sir," replied Ned Land; "because we shall not take that beast
easily."
"What shall we do then?"
"Put on more steam if you can, sir. With your leave, I mean to post
myself under the bowsprit, and, if we get within harpooning distance, I
shall throw my harpoon."
"Go, Ned," said the captain. "Engineer, put on more pressure."
Ned Land went to his post. The fires were increased, the screw revolved
forty-three times a minute, and the steam poured out of the valves. We
heaved the log, and calculated that the Abraham Lincoln was going at the
rate of 18 1/2 miles an hour.
But the accursed animal swam at the same speed.
For a whole hour the frigate kept up this pace, without gaining six
feet. It was humiliating for one of the swiftest sailers in the American
navy. A stubborn anger seized the crew; the sailors abused the monster,
who, as before, disdained to answer them; the captain no longer contented
himself with twisting his beard-he gnawed it.
The engineer was called again.
"You have turned full steam on?"
"Yes, sir," replied the engineer.
The speed of the Abraham Lincoln increased. Its masts trembled down to
their stepping holes, and the clouds of smoke could hardly find way out of
the narrow funnels.
They heaved the log a second time.
"Well?" asked the captain of the man at the wheel.
"Nineteen miles and three-tenths, sir."
"Clap on more steam."
The engineer obeyed. The manometer showed ten degrees. But the cetacean
grew warm itself, no doubt; for without straining itself, it made 19 3/10
miles.
What a pursuit! No, I cannot describe the emotion that vibrated through
me. Ned Land kept his post, harpoon in hand. Several times the animal let
us gain upon it.-"We shall catch it! we shall catch it!" cried the
Canadian. But just as he was going to strike, the cetacean stole away with
a rapidity that could not be estimated at less than thirty miles an hour,
and even during our maximum of speed, it bullied the frigate, going round
and round it. A cry of fury broke from everyone!
At noon we were no further advanced than at eight o'clock in the
morning.
The captain then decided to take more direct means.
"Ah!" said he, "that animal goes quicker than the Abraham Lincoln. Very
well! we will see whether it will escape these conical bullets. Send your
men to the forecastle, sir."
The forecastle gun was immediately loaded and slewed round. But the
shot passed some feet above the cetacean, which was half a mile off.
"Another, more to the right," cried the commander, "and five dollars to
whoever will hit that infernal beast."
An old gunner with a grey beard-that I can see now-with steady eye and
grave face, went up to the gun and took a long aim. A loud report was
heard, with which were mingled the cheers of the crew.
The bullet did its work; it hit the animal, and, sliding off the
rounded surface, was lost in two miles depth of sea.
The chase began again, and the captain, leaning towards me, said:
"I will pursue that beast till my frigate bursts up."
"Yes," answered I; "and you will be quite right to do it."
I wished the beast would exhaust itself, and not be insensible to
fatigue like a steam engine. But it was of no use. Hours passed, without
its showing any signs of exhaustion.
However, it must be said in praise of the Abraham Lincoln that she
struggled on indefatigably. I cannot reckon the distance she made under
three hundred miles during this unlucky day, November the 6th. But night
came on, and overshadowed the rough ocean.
Now I thought our expedition was at an end, and that we should never
again see the extraordinary animal. I was mistaken. At ten minutes to
eleven in the evening, the electric light reappeared three miles to
windward of the frigate, as pure, as intense as during the preceding
night.
The narwhal seemed motionless; perhaps, tired with its day's work, it
slept, letting itself float with the undulation of the waves. Now was a
chance of which the captain resolved to take advantage.
He gave his orders. The Abraham Lincoln kept up half steam, and
advanced cautiously so as not to awake its adversary. It is no rare thing
to meet in the middle of the ocean whales so sound asleep that they can be
successfully attacked, and Ned Land had harpooned more than one during its
sleep. The Canadian went to take his place again under the bowsprit.
The frigate approached noiselessly, stopped at two cables' lengths from
the animal, and following its track. No one breathed; a deep silence
reigned on the bridge. We were not a hundred feet from the burning focus,
the light of which increased and dazzled our eyes.
At this moment, leaning on the forecastle bulwark, I saw below me Ned
Land grappling the martingale in one hand, brandishing his terrible
harpoon in the other, scarcely twenty feet from the motionless animal.
Suddenly his arm straightened, and the harpoon was thrown; I heard the
sonorous stroke of the weapon, which seemed to have struck a hard body.
The electric light went out suddenly, and two enormous waterspouts broke
over the bridge of the frigate, rushing like a torrent from stem to stern,
overthrowing men, and breaking the lashings of the spars. A fearful shock
followed, and, thrown over the rail without having time to stop myself, I
fell into the sea.
This unexpected fall so stunned me that I have no clear recollection of
my sensations at the time. I was at first drawn down to a depth of about
twenty feet. I am a good swimmer (though without pretending to rival Byron
or Edgar Poe, who were masters of the art), and in that plunge I did not
lose my presence of mind. Two vigorous strokes brought me to the surface
of the water. My first care was to look for the frigate. Had the crew seen
me disappear? Had the Abraham Lincoln veered round? Would the captain put
out a boat? Might I hope to be saved?
The darkness was intense. I caught a glimpse of a black mass
disappearing in the east, its beacon lights dying out in the distance. It
was the frigate! I was lost.
"Help, help!" I shouted, swimming towards the Abraham Lincoln in
desperation.
My clothes encumbered me; they seemed glued to my body, and paralysed
my movements.
I was sinking! I was suffocating!
"Help!"
This was my last cry. My mouth filled with water; I struggled against
being drawn down the abyss. Suddenly my clothes were seized by a strong
hand, and I felt myself quickly drawn up to the surface of the sea; and I
heard, yes, I heard these words pronounced in my ear:
"If master would be so good as to lean on my shoulder, master would
swim with much greater ease."
I seized with one hand my faithful Conseil's arm.
"Is it you?" said I, "you?"
"Myself," answered Conseil; "and waiting master's orders."
"That shock threw you as well as me into the sea?"
"No; but, being in my master's service, I followed him."
The worthy fellow thought that was but natural.
"And the frigate?" I asked.
"The frigate?" replied Conseil, turning on his back; "I think that
master had better not count too much on her."
"You think so?"
"I say that, at the time I threw myself into the sea, I heard the men
at the wheel say, `The screw and the rudder are broken.'
"Broken?"
"Yes, broken by the monster's teeth. It is the only injury the Abraham
Lincoln has sustained. But it is a bad look-out for us- she no longer
answers her helm."
"Then we are lost!"
"Perhaps so," calmly answered Conseil. "However, we have still several
hours before us, and one can do a good deal in some hours."
Conseil's imperturbable coolness set me up again. I swam more
vigorously; but, cramped by my clothes, which stuck to me like a leaden
weight, I felt great difficulty in bearing up. Conseil saw this.
"Will master let me make a slit?" said he; and, slipping an open knife
under my clothes, he ripped them up from top to bottom very rapidly. Then
he cleverly slipped them off me, while I swam for both of us.
Then I did the same for Conseil, and we continued to swim near to each
other.
Nevertheless, our situation was no less terrible. Perhaps our
disappearance had not been noticed; and, if it had been, the frigate could
not tack, being without its helm. Conseil argued on this supposition, and
laid his plans accordingly. This quiet boy was perfectly self-possessed.
We then decided that, as our only chance of safety was being picked up by
the Abraham Lincoln's boats, we ought to manage so as to wait for them as
long as possible. I resolved then to husband our strength, so that both
should not be exhausted at the same time; and this is how we managed:
while one of us lay on our back, quite still, with arms crossed, and legs
stretched out, the other would swim and push the other on in front. This
towing business did not last more than ten minutes each; and relieving
each other thus, we could swim on for some hours, perhaps till day-break.
Poor chance! but hope is so firmly rooted in the heart of man! Moreover,
there were two of us. Indeed I declare (though it may seem improbable) if
I sought to destroy all hope-if I wished to despair, I could not.
The collision of the frigate with the cetacean had occurred about
eleven o'clock in the evening before. I reckoned then we should have eight
hours to swim before sunrise, an operation quite practicable if we
relieved each other. The sea, very calm, was in our favour. Sometimes I
tried to pierce the intense darkness that was only dispelled by the
phosphorescence caused by our movements. I watched the luminous waves that
broke over my hand, whose mirror-like surface was spotted with silvery
rings. One might have said that we were in a bath of quicksilver.
Near one o'clock in the morning, I was seized with dreadful fatigue. My
limbs stiffened under the strain of violent cramp. Conseil was obliged to
keep me up, and our preservation devolved on him alone. I heard the poor
boy pant; his breathing became short and hurried. I found that he could
not keep up much longer.
"Leave me! leave me!" I said to him.
"Leave my master? Never!" replied he. "I would drown first."
Just then the moon appeared through the fringes of a thick cloud that
the wind was driving to the east. The surface of the sea glittered with
its rays. This kindly light reanimated us. My head got better again. I
looked at all points of the horizon. I saw the frigate! She was five miles
from us, and looked like a dark mass, hardly discernible. But no boats!
I would have cried out. But what good would it have been at such a
distance! My swollen lips could utter no sounds. Conseil could articulate
some words, and I heard him repeat at intervals, "Help! help!"
Our movements were suspended for an instant; we listened. It might be
only a singing in the ear, but it seemed to me as if a cry answered the
cry from Conseil.
"Did you hear?" I murmured.
"Yes! Yes!"
And Conseil gave one more despairing cry.
This time there was no mistake! A human voice responded to ours! Was it
the voice of another unfortunate creature, abandoned in the middle of the
ocean, some other victim of the shock sustained by the vessel? Or rather
was it a boat from the frigate, that was hailing us in the darkness?
Conseil made a last effort, and, leaning on my shoulder, while I struck
out in a desperate effort, he raised himself half out of the water, then
fell back exhausted.
"What did you see?"
"I saw-" murmured he; "I saw-but do not talk-reserve all your strength!"
What had he seen? Then, I know not why, the thought of the monster came
into my head for the first time! But that voice! The time is past for
Jonahs to take refuge in whales' bellies! However, Conseil was towing me
again. He raised his head sometimes, looked before us, and uttered a cry
of recognition, which was responded to by a voice that came nearer and
nearer. I scarcely heard it. My strength was exhausted; my fingers
stiffened; my hand afforded me support no longer; my mouth, convulsively
opening, filled with salt water. Cold crept over me. I raised my head for
the last time, then I sank.
At this moment a hard body struck me. I clung to it: then I felt that I
was being drawn up, that I was brought to the surface of the water, that
my chest collapsed-I fainted.
It is certain that I soon came to, thanks to the vigorous rubbings that
I received. I half opened my eyes.
"Conseil!" I murmured.
"Does master call me?" asked Conseil.
Just then, by the waning light of the moon which was sinking down to
the horizon, I saw a face which was not Conseil's and which I immediately
recognised.
"Ned!" I cried.
"The same, sir, who is seeking his prize!" replied the Canadian.
"Were you thrown into the sea by the shock to the frigate?"
"Yes, Professor; but more fortunate than you, I was able to find a
footing almost directly upon a floating island."
"An island?"
"Or, more correctly speaking, on our gigantic narwhal."
"Explain yourself, Ned!"
"Only I soon found out why my harpoon had not entered its skin and was
blunted."
"Why, Ned, why?"
"Because, Professor, that beast is made of sheet iron."
The Canadian's last words produced a sudden revolution in my brain. I
wriggled myself quickly to the top of the being, or object, half out of
the water, which served us for a refuge. I kicked it. It was evidently a
hard, impenetrable body, and not the soft substance that forms the bodies
of the great marine mammalia. But this hard body might be a bony covering,
like that of the antediluvian animals; and I should be free to class this
monster among amphibious reptiles, such as tortoises or alligators.
Well, no! the blackish back that supported me was smooth, polished,
without scales. The blow produced a metallic sound; and, incredible though
it may be, it seemed, I might say, as if it was made of riveted plates.
There was no doubt about it! This monster, this natural phenomenon that
had puzzled the learned world, and over thrown and misled the imagination
of seamen of both hemispheres, it must be owned was a still more
astonishing phenomenon, inasmuch as it was a simply human construction.
We had no time to lose, however. We were lying upon the back of a sort
of submarine boat, which appeared (as far as I could judge) like a huge
fish of steel. Ned Land's mind was made up on this point. Conseil and I
could only agree with him.
Just then a bubbling began at the back of this strange thing (which was
evidently propelled by a screw), and it began to move. We had only just
time to seize hold of the upper part, which rose about seven feet out of
the water, and happily its speed was not great.
"As long as it sails horizontally," muttered Ned Land, "I do not mind;
but, if it takes a fancy to dive, I would not give two straws for my
life."
The Canadian might have said still less. It became really necessary to
communicate with the beings, whatever they were, shut up inside the
machine. I searched all over the outside for an aperture, a panel, or a
manhole, to use a technical expression; but the lines of the iron rivets,
solidly driven into the joints of the iron plates, were clear and uniform.
Besides, the moon disappeared then, and left us in total darkness.
At last this long night passed. My indistinct remembrance prevents my
describing all the impressions it made. I can only recall one
circumstance. During some lulls of the wind and sea, I fancied I heard
several times vague sounds, a sort of fugitive harmony produced by words
of command. What was, then, the mystery of this submarine craft, of which
the whole world vainly sought an explanation? What kind of beings existed
in this strange boat? What mechanical agent caused its prodigious speed?
Daybreak appeared. The morning mists surrounded us, but they soon
cleared off. I was about to examine the hull, which formed on deck a kind
of horizontal platform, when I felt it gradually sinking.
"Oh! confound it!" cried Ned Land, kicking the resounding plate. "Open,
you inhospitable rascals!"
Happily the sinking movement ceased. Suddenly a noise, like iron works
violently pushed aside, came from the interior of the boat. One iron plate
was moved, a man appeared, uttered an odd cry, and disappeared
immediately.
Some moments after, eight strong men, with masked faces, appeared
noiselessly, and drew us down into their formidable machine.
This forcible abduction, so roughly carried out, was accomplished with
the rapidity of lightning. I shivered all over. Whom had we to deal with?
No doubt some new sort of pirates, who explored the sea in their own way.
Hardly had the narrow panel closed upon me, when I was enveloped in
darkness. My eyes, dazzled with the outer light, could distinguish
nothing. I felt my naked feet cling to the rungs of an iron ladder. Ned
Land and Conseil, firmly seized, followed me. At the bottom of the ladder,
a door opened, and shut after us immediately with a bang.
We were alone. Where, I could not say, hardly imagine. All was black,
and such a dense black that, after some minutes, my eyes had not been able
to discern even the faintest glimmer.
Meanwhile, Ned Land, furious at these proceedings, gave free vent to
his indignation.
"Confound it!" cried he, "here are people who come up to the Scotch for
hospitality. They only just miss being cannibals. I should not be
surprised at it, but I declare that they shall not eat me without my
protesting."
"Calm yourself, friend Ned, calm yourself," replied Conseil, quietly.
"Do not cry out before you are hurt. We are not quite done for yet."
"Not quite," sharply replied the Canadian, "but pretty near, at all
events. Things look black. Happily, my bowie knife I have still, and I can
always see well enough to use it. The first of these pirates who lays a
hand on me-"
"Do not excite yourself, Ned," I said to the harpooner, "and do not
compromise us by useless violence. Who knows that they will not listen to
us? Let us rather try to find out where we are."
I groped about. In five steps I came to an iron wall, made of plates
bolted together. Then turning back I struck against a wooden table, near
which were ranged several stools. The boards of this prison were concealed
under a thick mat, which deadened the noise of the feet. The bare walls
revealed no trace of window or door. Conseil, going round the reverse way,
met me, and we went back to the middle of the cabin, which measured about
twenty feet by ten. As to its height, Ned Land, in spite of his own great
height, could not measure it.
Half an hour had already passed without our situation being bettered,
when the dense darkness suddenly gave way to extreme light. Our prison was
suddenly lighted, that is to say, it became filled with a luminous matter,
so strong that I could not bear it at first. In its whiteness and
intensity I recognised that electric light which played round the
submarine boat like a magnificent phenomenon of phosphorescence. After
shutting my eyes involuntarily, I opened them, and saw that this luminous
agent came from a half globe, unpolished, placed in the roof of the cabin.
"At last one can see," cried Ned Land, who, knife in hand, stood on the
defensive.
"Yes," said I; "but we are still in the dark about ourselves."
"Let master have patience," said the imperturbable Conseil.
The sudden lighting of the cabin enabled me to examine it minutely. It
only contained a table and five stools. The invisible door might be
hermetically sealed. No noise was heard. All seemed dead in the interior
of this boat. Did it move, did it float on the surface of the ocean, or
did it dive into its depths? I could not guess.
A noise of bolts was now heard, the door opened, and two men appeared.
One was short, very muscular, broad-shouldered, with robust limbs,
strong head, an abundance of black hair, thick moustache, a quick
penetrating look, and the vivacity which characterises the population of
Southern France.
The second stranger merits a more detailed description. I made out his
prevailing qualities directly: self-confidence-because his head was well
set on his shoulders, and his black eyes looked around with cold
assurance; calmness-for his skin, rather pale, showed his coolness of
blood; energy-evinced by the rapid contraction of his lofty brows; and
courage-because his deep breathing denoted great power of lungs.
Whether this person was thirty-five or fifty years of age, I could not
say. He was tall, had a large forehead, straight nose, a clearly cut
mouth, beautiful teeth, with fine taper hands, indicative of a highly
nervous temperament. This man was certainly the most admirable specimen I
had ever met. One particular feature was his eyes, rather far from each
other, and which could take in nearly a quarter of the horizon at once.
This faculty-(I verified it later)-gave him a range of vision far
superior to Ned Land's. When this stranger fixed upon an object, his
eyebrows met, his large eyelids closed around so as to contract the range
of his vision, and he looked as if he magnified the objects lessened by
distance, as if he pierced those sheets of water so opaque to our eyes,
and as if he read the very depths of the seas.
The two strangers, with caps made from the fur of the sea otter, and
shod with sea boots of seal's skin, were dressed in clothes of a
particular texture, which allowed free movement of the limbs. The taller
of the two, evidently the chief on board, examined us with great
attention, without saying a word; then, turning to his companion, talked
with him in an unknown tongue. It was a sonorous, harmonious, and flexible
dialect, the vowels seeming to admit of very varied accentuation.
The other replied by a shake of the head, and added two or three
perfectly incomprehensible words. Then he seemed to question me by a look.
I replied in good French that I did not know his language; but he
seemed not to understand me, and my situation became more embarrassing.
"If master were to tell our story," said Conseil, "perhaps these
gentlemen may understand some words."
I began to tell our adventures, articulating each syllable clearly, and
without omitting one single detail. I announced our names and rank,
introducing in person Professor Aronnax, his servant Conseil, and master
Ned Land, the harpooner.
The man with the soft calm eyes listened to me quietly, even politely,
and with extreme attention; but nothing in his countenance indicated that
he had understood my story. When I finished, he said not a word.
There remained one resource, to speak English. Perhaps they would know
this almost universal language. I knew it-as well as the German
language-well enough to read it fluently, but not to speak it correctly.
But, anyhow, we must make ourselves understood.
"Go on in your turn," I said to the harpooner; "speak your best
Anglo-Saxon, and try to do better than I."
Ned did not beg off, and recommenced our story.
To his great disgust, the harpooner did not seem to have made himself
more intelligible than I had. Our visitors did not stir. They evidently
understood neither the language of England nor of France.
Very much embarrassed, after having vainly exhausted our speaking
resources, I knew not what part to take, when Conseil said:
"If master will permit me, I will relate it in German."
But in spite of the elegant terms and good accent of the narrator, the
German language had no success. At last, nonplussed, I tried to remember
my first lessons, and to narrate our adventures in Latin, but with no
better success. This last attempt being of no avail, the two strangers
exchanged some words in their unknown language, and retired.
The door shut.
"It is an infamous shame," cried Ned Land, who broke out for the
twentieth time. "We speak to those rogues in French, English, German, and
Latin, and not one of them has the politeness to answer!"
"Calm yourself," I said to the impetuous Ned; "anger will do no good."
"But do you see, Professor," replied our irascible companion, "that we
shall absolutely die of hunger in this iron cage?"
"Bah!" said Conseil, philosophically; "we can hold out some time yet."
"My friends," I said, "we must not despair. We have been worse off than
this. Do me the favour to wait a little before forming an opinion upon the
commander and crew of this boat."
"My opinion is formed," replied Ned Land, sharply. "They are rascals."
"Good! and from what country?"
"From the land of rogues!"
"My brave Ned, that country is not clearly indicated on the map of the
world; but I admit that the nationality of the two strangers is hard to
determine. Neither English, French, nor German, that is quite certain.
However, I am inclined to think that the commander and his companion were
born in low latitudes. There is southern blood in them. But I cannot
decide by their appearance whether they are Spaniards, Turks, Arabians, or
Indians. As to their language, it is quite incomprehensible."
"There is the disadvantage of not knowing all languages," said Conseil,
"or the disadvantage of not having one universal language."
As he said these words, the door opened. A steward entered. He brought
us clothes, coats and trousers, made of a stuff I did not know. I hastened
to dress myself, and my companions followed my example. During that time,
the steward-dumb, perhaps deaf-had arranged the table, and laid three
plates.
"This is something like!" said Conseil.
"Bah!" said the angry harpooner, "what do you suppose they eat here?
Tortoise liver, filleted shark, and beef steaks from seadogs."
"We shall see," said Conseil.
The dishes, of bell metal, were placed on the table, and we took our
places. Undoubtedly we had to do with civilised people, and, had it not
been for the electric light which flooded us, I could have fancied I was
in the dining-room of the Adelphi Hotel at Liverpool, or at the Grand
Hotel in Paris. I must say, however, that there was neither bread nor
wine. The water was fresh and clear, but it was water and did not suit Ned
Land's taste. Amongst the dishes which were brought to us, I recognised
several fish delicately dressed; but of some, although excellent, I could
give no opinion, neither could I tell to what kingdom they belonged,
whether animal or vegetable. As to the dinner-service, it was elegant, and
in perfect taste. Each utensil-spoon, fork, knife, plate-had a letter
engraved on it, with a motto above it, of which this is an exact
facsimile:
MOBILIS IN MOBILI N
The letter N was no doubt the initial of the name of the enigmatical
person who commanded at the bottom of the seas.
Ned and Conseil did not reflect much. They devoured the food, and I did
likewise. I was, besides, reassured as to our fate; and it seemed evident
that our hosts would not let us die of want.
However, everything has an end, everything passes away, even the hunger
of people who have not eaten for fifteen hours. Our appetites satisfied,
we felt overcome with sleep.
"Faith! I shall sleep well," said Conseil.
"So shall I," replied Ned Land.
My two companions stretched themselves on the cabin carpet, and were
soon sound asleep. For my own part, too many thoughts crowded my brain,
too many insoluble questions pressed upon me, too many fancies kept my
eyes half open. Where were we? What strange power carried us on? I felt-or
rather fancied I felt- the machine sinking down to the lowest beds of the
sea. Dreadful nightmares beset me; I saw in these mysterious asylums a
world of unknown animals, amongst which this submarine boat seemed to be
of the same kind, living, moving, and formidable as they. Then my brain
grew calmer, my imagination wandered into vague unconsciousness, and I
soon fell into a deep sleep.
How long we slept I do not know; but our sleep must have lasted long,
for it rested us completely from our fatigues. I woke first. My companions
had not moved, and were still stretched in their corner.
Hardly roused from my somewhat hard couch, I felt my brain freed, my
mind clear. I then began an attentive examination of our cell. Nothing was
changed inside. The prison was still a prison- the prisoners, prisoners.
However, the steward, during our sleep, had cleared the table. I breathed
with difficulty. The heavy air seemed to oppress my lungs. Although the
cell was large, we had evidently consumed a great part of the oxygen that
it contained. Indeed, each man consumes, in one hour, the oxygen contained
in more than 176 pints of air, and this air, charged (as then) with a
nearly equal quantity of carbonic acid, becomes unbreathable.
It became necessary to renew the atmosphere of our prison, and no doubt
the whole in the submarine boat. That gave rise to a question in my mind.
How would the commander of this floating dwelling-place proceed? Would he
obtain air by chemical means, in getting by heat the oxygen contained in
chlorate of potash, and in absorbing carbonic acid by caustic potash? Or-a
more convenient, economical, and consequently more probable alternative-
would he be satisfied to rise and take breath at the surface of the water,
like a whale, and so renew for twenty-four hours the atmospheric
provision?
In fact, I was already obliged to increase my respirations to eke out
of this cell the little oxygen it contained, when suddenly I was refreshed
by a current of pure air, and perfumed with saline emanations. It was an
invigorating sea breeze, charged with iodine. I opened my mouth wide, and
my lungs saturated themselves with fresh particles.
At the same time I felt the boat rolling. The iron-plated monster had
evidently just risen to the surface of the ocean to breathe, after the
fashion of whales. I found out from that the mode of ventilating the boat.
When I had inhaled this air freely, I sought the conduit pipe, which
conveyed to us the beneficial whiff, and I was not long in finding it.
Above the door was a ventilator, through which volumes of fresh air
renewed the impoverished atmosphere of the cell.
I was making my observations, when Ned and Conseil awoke almost at the
same time, under the influence of this reviving air. They rubbed their
eyes, stretched themselves, and were on their feet in an instant.
"Did master sleep well?" asked Conseil, with his usual politeness.
"Very well, my brave boy. And you, Mr. Land?"
"Soundly, Professor. But, I don't know if I am right or not, there
seems to be a sea breeze!"
A seaman could not be mistaken, and I told the Canadian all that had
passed during his sleep.
"Good!" said he. "That accounts for those roarings we heard, when the
supposed narwhal sighted the Abraham Lincoln."
"Quite so, Master Land; it was taking breath."
"Only, Mr. Aronnax, I have no idea what o'clock it is, unless it is
dinner-time."
"Dinner-time! my good fellow? Say rather breakfast-time, for we
certainly have begun another day."
"So," said Conseil, "we have slept twenty-four hours?"
"That is my opinion."
"I will not contradict you," replied Ned Land. "But, dinner or
breakfast, the steward will be welcome, whichever he brings."
"Master Land, we must conform to the rules on board, and I suppose our
appetites are in advance of the dinner hour."
"That is just like you, friend Conseil," said Ned, impatiently. "You
are never out of temper, always calm; you would return thanks before
grace, and die of hunger rather than complain!"
Time was getting on, and we were fearfully hungry; and this time the
steward did not appear. It was rather too long to leave us, if they really
had good intentions towards us. Ned Land, tormented by the cravings of
hunger, got still more angry; and, notwithstanding his promise, I dreaded
an explosion when he found himself with one of the crew.
For two hours more Ned Land's temper increased; he cried, he shouted,
but in vain. The walls were deaf. There was no sound to be heard in the
boat; all was still as death. It did not move, for I should have felt the
trembling motion of the hull under the influence of the screw. Plunged in
the depths of the waters, it belonged no longer to earth: this silence was
dreadful.
I felt terrified, Conseil was calm, Ned Land roared.
Just then a noise was heard outside. Steps sounded on the metal flags.
The locks were turned, the door opened, and the steward appeared.
Before I could rush forward to stop him, the Canadian had thrown him
down, and held him by the throat. The steward was choking under the grip
of his powerful hand.
Conseil was already trying to unclasp the harpooner's hand from his
half-suffocated victim, and I was going to fly to the rescue, when
suddenly I was nailed to the spot by hearing these words in French:
"Be quiet, Master Land; and you, Professor, will you be so good as to
listen to me?"
It was the commander of the vessel who thus spoke.
At these words, Ned Land rose suddenly. The steward, nearly strangled,
tottered out on a sign from his master. But such was the power of the
commander on board, that not a gesture betrayed the resentment which this
man must have felt towards the Canadian. Conseil interested in spite of
himself, I stupefied, awaited in silence the result of this scene.
The commander, leaning against the corner of a table with his arms
folded, scanned us with profound attention. Did he hesitate to speak? Did
he regret the words which he had just spoken in French? One might almost
think so.
After some moments of silence, which not one of us dreamed of breaking,
"Gentlemen," said he, in a calm and penetrating voice, "I speak French,
English, German, and Latin equally well. I could, therefore, have answered
you at our first interview, but I wished to know you first, then to
reflect. The story told by each one, entirely agreeing in the main points,
convinced me of your identity. I know now that chance has brought before
me M. Pierre Aronnax, Professor of Natural History at the Museum of Paris,
entrusted with a scientific mission abroad, Conseil, his servant, and Ned
Land, of Canadian origin, harpooner on board the frigate Abraham Lincoln
of the navy of the United States of America."
I bowed assent. It was not a question that the commander put to me.
Therefore there was no answer to be made. This man expressed himself with
perfect ease, without any accent. His sentences were well turned, his
words clear, and his fluency of speech remarkable. Yet, I did not
recognise in him a fellow-countryman.
He continued the conversation in these terms:
"You have doubtless thought, sir, that I have delayed long in paying
you this second visit. The reason is that, your identity recognised, I