variety. We had no lack of excellent food, and the rapidity of the
Nautilus and the attraction of the electric light could always renew our
supply. These several productions of the sea were immediately lowered
through the panel to the steward's room, some to be eaten fresh, and
others pickled.
The fishing ended, the provision of air renewed, I thought that the
Nautilus was about to continue its submarine excursion, and was preparing
to return to my room, when, without further preamble, the Captain turned
to me, saying:
"Professor, is not this ocean gifted with real life? It has its tempers
and its gentle moods. Yesterday it slept as we did, and now it has woke
after a quiet night. Look!" he continued, "it wakes under the caresses of
the sun. It is going to renew its diurnal existence. It is an interesting
study to watch the play of its organisation. It has a pulse, arteries,
spasms; and I agree with the learned Maury, who discovered in it a
circulation as real as the circulation of blood in animals.
"Yes, the ocean has indeed circulation, and to promote it, the Creator
has caused things to multiply in it-caloric, salt, and animalculae."
When Captain Nemo spoke thus, he seemed altogether changed, and aroused
an extraordinary emotion in me.
"Also," he added, "true existence is there; and I can imagine the
foundations of nautical towns, clusters of submarine houses, which, like
the Nautilus, would ascend every morning to breathe at the surface of the
water, free towns, independent cities. Yet who knows whether some despot-"
Captain Nemo finished his sentence with a violent gesture. Then,
addressing me as if to chase away some sorrowful thought:
"M. Aronnax," he asked. "do you know the depth of the ocean?"
"I only know, Captain, what the principal soundings have taught us."
"Could you tell me them, so that I can suit them to my purpose?"
"These are some," I replied, "that I remember. If I am not mistaken, a
depth of 8,000 yards has been found in the North Atlantic, and 2,500 yards
in the Mediterranean. The most remarkable soundings have been made in the
South Atlantic, near the thirty-fifth parallel, and they gave 12,000
yards, 14,000 yards, and 15,000 yards. To sum up all, it is reckoned that
if the bottom of the sea were levelled, its mean depth would be about one
and three-quarter leagues."
"Well, Professor," replied the Captain, "we shall show you better than
that I hope. As to the mean depth of this part of the Pacific, I tell you
it is only 4,000 yards."
Having said this, Captain Nemo went towards the panel, and disappeared
down the ladder. I followed him, and went into the large drawing-room. The
screw was immediately put in motion, and the log gave twenty miles an
hour.
During the days and weeks that passed, Captain Nemo was very sparing of
his visits. I seldom saw him. The lieutenant pricked the ship's course
regularly on the chart, so I could always tell exactly the route of the
Nautilus.
Nearly every day, for some time, the panels of the drawing-room were
opened, and we were never tired of penetrating the mysteries of the
submarine world.
The general direction of the Nautilus was south-east, and it kept
between 100 and 150 yards of depth. One day, however, I do not know why,
being drawn diagonally by means of the inclined planes, it touched the bed
of the sea. The thermometer indicated a temperature of 4.25 (cent.): a
temperature that at this depth seemed common to all latitudes.
At three o'clock in the morning of the 26th of November the Nautilus
crossed the tropic of Cancer at 172O long. On 27th instant it sighted the
Sandwich Islands, where Cook died, February 14, 1779. We had then gone
4,860 leagues from our starting-point. In the morning, when I went on the
platform, I saw two miles to windward, Hawaii, the largest of the seven
islands that form the group. I saw clearly the cultivated ranges, and the
several mountain-chains that run parallel with the side, and the volcanoes
that overtop Mouna-Rea, which rise 5,000 yards above the level of the sea.
Besides other things the nets brought up, were several flabellariae and
graceful polypi, that are peculiar to that part of the ocean. The
direction of the Nautilus was still to the south-east. It crossed the
equator December 1, in 142O long.; and on the 4th of the same month, after
crossing rapidly and without anything in particular occurring, we sighted
the Marquesas group. I saw, three miles off, Martin's peak in Nouka-Hiva,
the largest of the group that belongs to France. I only saw the woody
mountains against the horizon, because Captain Nemo did not wish to bring
the ship to the wind. There the nets brought up beautiful specimens of
fish: some with azure fins and tails like gold, the flesh of which is
unrivalled; some nearly destitute of scales, but of exquisite flavour;
others, with bony jaws, and yellow-tinged gills, as good as bonitos; all
fish that would be of use to us. After leaving these charming islands
protected by the French flag, from the 4th to the 11th of December the
Nautilus sailed over about 2,000 miles.
During the daytime of the 11th of December I was busy reading in the
large drawing-room. Ned Land and Conseil watched the luminous water
through the half-open panels. The Nautilus was immovable. While its
reservoirs were filled, it kept at a depth of 1,000 yards, a region rarely
visited in the ocean, and in which large fish were seldom seen.
I was then reading a charming book by Jean Mace, The Slaves of the
Stomach, and I was learning some valuable lessons from it, when Conseil
interrupted me.
"Will master come here a moment?" he said, in a curious voice.
"What is the matter, Conseil?"
"I want master to look."
I rose, went, and leaned on my elbows before the panes and watched.
In a full electric light, an enormous black mass, quite immovable, was
suspended in the midst of the waters. I watched it attentively, seeking to
find out the nature of this gigantic cetacean. But a sudden thought
crossed my mind. "A vessel!" I said, half aloud.
"Yes," replied the Canadian, "a disabled ship that has sunk
perpendicularly."
Ned Land was right; we were close to a vessel of which the tattered
shrouds still hung from their chains. The keel seemed to be in good order,
and it had been wrecked at most some few hours. Three stumps of masts,
broken off about two feet above the bridge, showed that the vessel had had
to sacrifice its masts. But, lying on its side, it had filled, and it was
heeling over to port. This skeleton of what it had once been was a sad
spectacle as it lay lost under the waves, but sadder still was the sight
of the bridge, where some corpses, bound with ropes, were still lying. I
counted five-four men, one of whom was standing at the helm, and a woman
standing by the poop, holding an infant in her arms. She was quite young.
I could distinguish her features, which the water had not decomposed, by
the brilliant light from the Nautilus. In one despairing effort, she had
raised her infant above her head- poor little thing!-whose arms encircled
its mother's neck. The attitude of the four sailors was frightful,
distorted as they were by their convulsive movements, whilst making a last
effort to free themselves from the cords that bound them to the vessel.
The steersman alone, calm, with a grave, clear face, his grey hair glued
to his forehead, and his hand clutching the wheel of the helm, seemed even
then to be guiding the three broken masts through the depths of the ocean.
What a scene! We were dumb; our hearts beat fast before this shipwreck,
taken as it were from life and photographed in its last moments. And I saw
already, coming towards it with hungry eyes, enormous sharks, attracted by
the human flesh.
However, the Nautilus, turning, went round the submerged vessel, and in
one instant I read on the stern-"The Florida, Sunderland."


    Chapter XVIII. VANIKORO



This terrible spectacle was the forerunner of the series of maritime
catastrophes that the Nautilus was destined to meet with in its route. As
long as it went through more frequented waters, we often saw the hulls of
shipwrecked vessels that were rotting in the depths, and deeper down
cannons, bullets, anchors, chains, and a thousand other iron materials
eaten up by rust. However, on the 11th of December we sighted the Pomotou
Islands, the old "dangerous group" of Bougainville, that extend over a
space of 500 leagues at E.S.E. to W.N.W., from the Island Ducie to that of
Lazareff. This group covers an area of 370 square leagues, and it is
formed of sixty groups of islands, among which the Gambier group is
remarkable, over which France exercises sway. These are coral islands,
slowly raised, but continuous, created by the daily work of polypi. Then
this new island will be joined later on to the neighboring groups, and a
fifth continent will stretch from New Zealand and New Caledonia, and from
thence to the Marquesas.
One day, when I was suggesting this theory to Captain Nemo, he replied
coldly:
"The earth does not want new continents, but new men."
{5 paragraphs have been stripped from this edition}
On 15th of December, we left to the east the bewitching group of the
Societies and the graceful Tahiti, queen of the Pacific. I saw in the
morning, some miles to the windward, the elevated summits of the island.
These waters furnished our table with excellent fish, mackerel, bonitos,
and some varieties of a sea-serpent.
On the 25th of December the Nautilus sailed into the midst of the New
Hebrides, discovered by Quiros in 1606, and that Bougainville explored in
1768, and to which Cook gave its present name in 1773. This group is
composed principally of nine large islands, that form a band of 120
leagues N.N.S. to S.S.W., between 15O and 2O S. lat., and 164O and 168O
long. We passed tolerably near to the Island of Aurou, that at noon looked
like a mass of green woods, surmounted by a peak of great height.
That day being Christmas Day, Ned Land seemed to regret sorely the
non-celebration of "Christmas," the family fete of which Protestants are
so fond. I had not seen Captain Nemo for a week, when, on the morning of
the 27th, he came into the large drawing-room, always seeming as if he had
seen you five minutes before. I was busily tracing the route of the
Nautilus on the planisphere. The Captain came up to me, put his finger on
one spot on the chart, and said this single word.
"Vanikoro."
The effect was magical! It was the name of the islands on which La
Perouse had been lost! I rose suddenly.
"The Nautilus has brought us to Vanikoro?" I asked.
"Yes, Professor," said the Captain.
"And I can visit the celebrated islands where the Boussole and the
Astrolabe struck?"
"If you like, Professor."
"When shall we be there?"
"We are there now."
Followed by Captain Nemo, I went up on to the platform, and greedily
scanned the horizon.
To the N.E. two volcanic islands emerged of unequal size, surrounded by
a coral reef that measured forty miles in circumference. We were close to
Vanikoro, really the one to which Dumont d'Urville gave the name of Isle
de la Recherche, and exactly facing the little harbour of Vanou, situated
in 16O 4' S. lat., and 164O 32' E. long. The earth seemed covered with
verdure from the shore to the summits in the interior, that were crowned
by Mount Kapogo, 476 feet high. The Nautilus, having passed the outer belt
of rocks by a narrow strait, found itself among breakers where the sea was
from thirty to forty fathoms deep. Under the verdant shade of some
mangroves I perceived some savages, who appeared greatly surprised at our
approach. In the long black body, moving between wind and water, did they
not see some formidable cetacean that they regarded with suspicion?
Just then Captain Nemo asked me what I knew about the wreck of La
Perouse.
"Only what everyone knows, Captain," I replied.
"And could you tell me what everyone knows about it?" he inquired,
ironically.
"Easily."
I related to him all that the last works of Dumont d'Urville had made
known- works from which the following is a brief account.
La Perouse, and his second, Captain de Langle, were sent by Louis XVI,
in 1785, on a voyage of circumnavigation. They embarked in the corvettes
Boussole and the Astrolabe, neither of which were again heard of. In 1791,
the French Government, justly uneasy as to the fate of these two sloops,
manned two large merchantmen, the Recherche and the Esperance, which left
Brest the 28th of September under the command of Bruni d'Entrecasteaux.
Two months after, they learned from Bowen, commander of the Albemarle,
that the debris of shipwrecked vessels had been seen on the coasts of New
Georgia. But D'Entrecasteaux, ignoring this communication- rather
uncertain, besides-directed his course towards the Admiralty Islands,
mentioned in a report of Captain Hunter's as being the place where La
Perouse was wrecked.
They sought in vain. The Esperance and the Recherche passed before
Vanikoro without stopping there, and, in fact, this voyage was most
disastrous, as it cost D'Entrecasteaux his life, and those of two of his
lieutenants, besides several of his crew.
Captain Dillon, a shrewd old Pacific sailor, was the first to find
unmistakable traces of the wrecks. On the 15th of May, 1824, his vessel,
the St. Patrick, passed close to Tikopia, one of the New Hebrides. There a
Lascar came alongside in a canoe, sold him the handle of a sword in silver
that bore the print of characters engraved on the hilt. The Lascar
pretended that six years before, during a stay at Vanikoro, he had seen
two Europeans that belonged to some vessels that had run aground on the
reefs some years ago.
Dillon guessed that he meant La Perouse, whose disappearance had
troubled the whole world. He tried to get on to Vanikoro, where, according
to the Lascar, he would find numerous debris of the wreck, but winds and
tides prevented him.
Dillon returned to Calcutta. There he interested the Asiatic Society
and the Indian Company in his discovery. A vessel, to which was given the
name of the Recherche, was put at his disposal, and he set out, 23rd
January, 1827, accompanied by a French agent.
The Recherche, after touching at several points in the Pacific, cast
anchor before Vanikoro, 7th July, 1827, in that same harbour of Vanou
where the Nautilus was at this time.
There it collected numerous relics of the wreck- iron utensils,
anchors, pulley-strops, swivel-guns, an 18 lb. shot, fragments of
astronomical instruments, a piece of crown work, and a bronze clock,
bearing this inscription-"Bazin m'a fait," the mark of the foundry of the
arsenal at Brest about 1785. There could be no further doubt.
Dillon, having made all inquiries, stayed in the unlucky place till
October. Then he quitted Vanikoro, and directed his course towards New
Zealand; put into Calcutta, 7th April, 1828, and returned to France, where
he was warmly welcomed by Charles X.
But at the same time, without knowing Dillon's movements, Dumont
d'Urville had already set out to find the scene of the wreck. And they had
learned from a whaler that some medals and a cross of St. Louis had been
found in the hands of some savages of Louisiade and New Caledonia. Dumont
d'Urville, commander of the Astrolabe, had then sailed, and two months
after Dillon had left Vanikoro he put into Hobart Town. There he learned
the results of Dillon's inquiries, and found that a certain James Hobbs,
second lieutenant of the Union of Calcutta, after landing on an island
situated 8O 18' S. lat., and 156O 30' E. long., had seen some iron bars
and red stuffs used by the natives of these parts. Dumont d'Urville, much
perplexed, and not knowing how to credit the reports of low-class
journals, decided to follow Dillon's track.
On the 10th of February, 1828, the Astrolabe appeared off Tikopia, and
took as guide and interpreter a deserter found on the island; made his way
to Vanikoro, sighted it on the 12th inst., lay among the reefs until the
14th, and not until the 20th did he cast anchor within the barrier in the
harbour of Vanou.
On the 23rd, several officers went round the island and brought back
some unimportant trifles. The natives, adopting a system of denials and
evasions, refused to take them to the unlucky place. This ambiguous
conduct led them to believe that the natives had ill-treated the
castaways, and indeed they seemed to fear that Dumont d'Urville had come
to avenge La Perouse and his unfortunate crew.
However, on the 26th, appeased by some presents, and understanding that
they had no reprisals to fear, they led M. Jacquireot to the scene of the
wreck.
There, in three or four fathoms of water, between the reefs of Pacou
and Vanou, lay anchors, cannons, pigs of lead and iron, embedded in the
limy concretions. The large boat and the whaler belonging to the Astrolabe
were sent to this place, and, not without some difficulty, their crews
hauled up an anchor weighing 1,800 lbs., a brass gun, some pigs of iron,
and two copper swivel-guns.
Dumont d'Urville, questioning the natives, learned too that La Perouse,
after losing both his vessels on the reefs of this island, had constructed
a smaller boat, only to be lost a second time. Where, no one knew.
But the French Government, fearing that Dumont d'Urville was not
acquainted with Dillon's movements, had sent the sloop Bayonnaise,
commanded by Legoarant de Tromelin, to Vanikoro, which had been stationed
on the west coast of America. The Bayonnaise cast her anchor before
Vanikoro some months after the departure of the Astrolabe, but found no
new document; but stated that the savages had respected the monument to La
Perouse. That is the substance of what I told Captain Nemo.
"So," he said, "no one knows now where the third vessel perished that
was constructed by the castaways on the island of Vanikoro?"
"No one knows."
Captain Nemo said nothing, but signed to me to follow him into the
large saloon. The Nautilus sank several yards below the waves, and the
panels were opened.
I hastened to the aperture, and under the crustations of coral, covered
with fungi, I recognised certain debris that the drags had not been able
to tear up-iron stirrups, anchors, cannons, bullets, capstan fittings, the
stem of a ship, all objects clearly proving the wreck of some vessel, and
now carpeted with living flowers. While I was looking on this desolate
scene, Captain Nemo said, in a sad voice:
{this above para was edited}
"Commander La Perouse set out 7th December, 1785, with his vessels La
Boussole and the Astrolabe. He first cast anchor at Botany Bay, visited
the Friendly Isles, New Caledonia, then directed his course towards Santa
Cruz, and put into Namouka, one of the Hapai group. Then his vessels
struck on the unknown reefs of Vanikoro. The Boussole, which went first,
ran aground on the southerly coast. The Astrolabe went to its help, and
ran aground too. The first vessel was destroyed almost immediately. The
second, stranded under the wind, resisted some days. The natives made the
castaways welcome. They installed themselves in the island, and
constructed a smaller boat with the debris of the two large ones. Some
sailors stayed willingly at Vanikoro; the others, weak and ill, set out
with La Perouse. They directed their course towards the Solomon Islands,
and there perished, with everything, on the westerly coast of the chief
island of the group, between Capes Deception and Satisfaction."
"How do you know that?"
"By this, that I found on the spot where was the last wreck."
Captain Nemo showed me a tin-plate box, stamped with the French arms,
and corroded by the salt water. He opened it, and I saw a bundle of
papers, yellow but still readable.
They were the instructions of the naval minister to Commander La
Perouse, annotated in the margin in Louis XVI's handwriting.
"Ah! it is a fine death for a sailor!" said Captain Nemo, at last. "A
coral tomb makes a quiet grave; and I trust that I and my comrades will
find no other."


    Chapter XIX. TORRES STRAITS



During the night of the 27th or 28th of December, the Nautilus left the
shores of Vanikoro with great speed. Her course was south-westerly, and in
three days she had gone over the 750 leagues that separated it from La
Perouse's group and the south-east point of Papua.
Early on the 1st of January, 1863, Conseil joined me on the platform.
"Master, will you permit me to wish you a happy New Year?"
"What! Conseil; exactly as if I was at Paris in my study at the Jardin
des Plantes? Well, I accept your good wishes, and thank you for them.
Only, I will ask you what you mean by a `Happy New Year' under our
circumstances? Do you mean the year that will bring us to the end of our
imprisonment, or the year that sees us continue this strange voyage?"
"Really, I do not know how to answer, master. We are sure to see
curious things, and for the last two months we have not had time for
dullness. The last marvel is always the most astonishing; and, if we
continue this progression, I do not know how it will end. It is my opinion
that we shall never again see the like. I think then, with no offence to
master, that a happy year would be one in which we could see everything."
On 2nd January we had made 11,340 miles, or 5,250 French leagues, since
our starting-point in the Japan Seas. Before the ship's head stretched the
dangerous shores of the coral sea, on the north-east coast of Australia.
Our boat lay along some miles from the redoubtable bank on which Cook's
vessel was lost, 10th June, 1770. The boat in which Cook was struck on a
rock, and, if it did not sink, it was owing to a piece of coral that was
broken by the shock, and fixed itself in the broken keel.
I had wished to visit the reef, 360 leagues long, against which the
sea, always rough, broke with great violence, with a noise like thunder.
But just then the inclined planes drew the Nautilus down to a great depth,
and I could see nothing of the high coral walls. I had to content myself
with the different specimens of fish brought up by the nets. I remarked,
among others, some germons, a species of mackerel as large as a tunny,
with bluish sides, and striped with transverse bands, that disappear with
the animal's life. These fish followed us in shoals, and furnished us with
very delicate food. We took also a large number of giltheads, about one
and a half inches long, tasting like dorys; and flying fire-fish like
submarine swallows, which, in dark nights, light alternately the air and
water with their phosphorescent light.{2 sentences missing here}
Two days after crossing the coral sea, 4th January, we sighted the
Papuan coasts. On this occasion, Captain Nemo informed me that his
intention was to get into the Indian Ocean by the Strait of Torres. His
communication ended there.
The Torres Straits are nearly thirty-four leagues wide; but they are
obstructed by an innumerable quantity of islands, islets, breakers, and
rocks, that make its navigation almost impracticable; so that Captain Nemo
took all needful precautions to cross them. The Nautilus, floating betwixt
wind and water, went at a moderate pace. Her screw, like a cetacean's
tail, beat the waves slowly.
Profiting by this, I and my two companions went up on to the deserted
platform. Before us was the steersman's cage, and I expected that Captain
Nemo was there directing the course of the Nautilus. I had before me the
excellent charts of the Straits of Torres, and I consulted them
attentively. Round the Nautilus the sea dashed furiously. The course of
the waves, that went from south-east to north-west at the rate of two and
a half miles, broke on the coral that showed itself here and there.
"This is a bad sea!" remarked Ned Land.
"Detestable indeed, and one that does not suit a boat like the
Nautilus."
"The Captain must be very sure of his route, for I see there pieces of
coral that would do for its keel if it only touched them slightly."
Indeed the situation was dangerous, but the Nautilus seemed to slide
like magic off these rocks. It did not follow the routes of the Astrolabe
and the Zelee exactly, for they proved fatal to Dumont d'Urville. It bore
more northwards, coasted the Islands of Murray, and came back to the
south-west towards Cumberland Passage. I thought it was going to pass it
by, when, going back to north-west, it went through a large quantity of
islands and islets little known, towards the Island Sound and Canal
Mauvais.
I wondered if Captain Nemo, foolishly imprudent, would steer his vessel
into that pass where Dumont d'Urville's two corvettes touched; when,
swerving again, and cutting straight through to the west, he steered for
the Island of Gilboa.
It was then three in the afternoon. The tide began to recede, being
quite full. The Nautilus approached the island, that I still saw, with its
remarkable border of screw-pines. He stood off it at about two miles
distant. Suddenly a shock overthrew me. The Nautilus just touched a rock,
and stayed immovable, laying lightly to port side.
When I rose, I perceived Captain Nemo and his lieutenant on the
platform. They were examining the situation of the vessel, and exchanging
words in their incomprehensible dialect.
She was situated thus: Two miles, on the starboard side, appeared
Gilboa, stretching from north to west like an immense arm. Towards the
south and east some coral showed itself, left by the ebb. We had run
aground, and in one of those seas where the tides are middling-a sorry
matter for the floating of the Nautilus. However, the vessel had not
suffered, for her keel was solidly joined. But, if she could neither glide
off nor move, she ran the risk of being for ever fastened to these rocks,
and then Captain Nemo's submarine vessel would be done for.
I was reflecting thus, when the Captain, cool and calm, always master
of himself, approached me.
"An accident?" I asked.
"No; an incident."
"But an incident that will oblige you perhaps to become an inhabitant
of this land from which you flee?"
Captain Nemo looked at me curiously, and made a negative gesture, as
much as to say that nothing would force him to set foot on terra firma
again. Then he said:
"Besides, M. Aronnax, the Nautilus is not lost; it will carry you yet
into the midst of the marvels of the ocean. Our voyage is only begun, and
I do not wish to be deprived so soon of the honour of your company."
"However, Captain Nemo," I replied, without noticing the ironical turn
of his phrase, "the Nautilus ran aground in open sea. Now the tides are
not strong in the Pacific; and, if you cannot lighten the Nautilus, I do
not see how it will be reinflated."
"The tides are not strong in the Pacific: you are right there,
Professor; but in Torres Straits one finds still a difference of a yard
and a half between the level of high and low seas. To-day is 4th January,
and in five days the moon will be full. Now, I shall be very much
astonished if that satellite does not raise these masses of water
sufficiently, and render me a service that I should be indebted to her
for."
Having said this, Captain Nemo, followed by his lieutenant, redescended
to the interior of the Nautilus. As to the vessel, it moved not, and was
immovable, as if the coralline polypi had already walled it up with their
in destructible cement.
"Well, sir?" said Ned Land, who came up to me after the departure of
the Captain.
"Well, friend Ned, we will wait patiently for the tide on the 9th
instant; for it appears that the moon will have the goodness to put it off
again."
"Really?"
"Really."
"And this Captain is not going to cast anchor at all since the tide
will suffice?" said Conseil, simply.
The Canadian looked at Conseil, then shrugged his shoulders.
"Sir, you may believe me when I tell you that this piece of iron will
navigate neither on nor under the sea again; it is only fit to be sold for
its weight. I think, therefore, that the time has come to part company
with Captain Nemo."
"Friend Ned, I do not despair of this stout Nautilus, as you do; and in
four days we shall know what to hold to on the Pacific tides. Besides,
flight might be possible if we were in sight of the English or Provencal
coast; but on the Papuan shores, it is another thing; and it will be time
enough to come to that extremity if the Nautilus does not recover itself
again, which I look upon as a grave event."
"But do they know, at least, how to act circumspectly? There is an
island; on that island there are trees; under those trees, terrestrial
animals, bearers of cutlets and roast beef, to which I would willingly
give a trial."
"In this, friend Ned is right," said Conseil, "and I agree with him.
Could not master obtain permission from his friend Captain Nemo to put us
on land, if only so as not to lose the habit of treading on the solid
parts of our planet?"
"I can ask him, but he will refuse."
"Will master risk it?" asked Conseil, "and we shall know how to rely
upon the Captain's amiability."
To my great surprise, Captain Nemo gave me the permission I asked for,
and he gave it very agreeably, without even exacting from me a promise to
return to the vessel; but flight across New Guinea might be very perilous,
and I should not have counselled Ned Land to attempt it. Better to be a
prisoner on board the Nautilus than to fall into the hands of the natives.
At eight o'clock, armed with guns and hatchets, we got off the
Nautilus. The sea was pretty calm; a slight breeze blew on land. Conseil
and I rowing, we sped along quickly, and Ned steered in the straight
passage that the breakers left between them. The boat was well handled,
and moved rapidly.
Ned Land could not restrain his joy. He was like a prisoner that had
escaped from prison, and knew not that it was necessary to re-enter it.
"Meat! We are going to eat some meat; and what meat!" he replied. "Real
game! no, bread, indeed."
"I do not say that fish is not good; we must not abuse it; but a piece
of fresh venison, grilled on live coals, will agreeably vary our ordinary
course."
"Glutton!" said Conseil, "he makes my mouth water."
"It remains to be seen," I said, "if these forests are full of game,
and if the game is not such as will hunt the hunter himself."
"Well said, M. Aronnax," replied the Canadian, whose teeth seemed
sharpened like the edge of a hatchet; "but I will eat tiger- loin of
tiger-if there is no other quadruped on this island."
"Friend Ned is uneasy about it," said Conseil.
"Whatever it may be," continued Ned Land, "every animal with four paws
without feathers, or with two paws without feathers, will be saluted by my
first shot."
"Very well! Master Land's imprudences are beginning."
"Never fear, M. Aronnax," replied the Canadian; "I do not want
twenty-five minutes to offer you a dish, of my sort."
At half-past eight the Nautilus boat ran softly aground on a heavy
sand, after having happily passed the coral reef that surrounds the Island
of Gilboa.


    Chapter XX. A FEW DAYS ON LAND



I was much impressed on touching land. Ned Land tried the soil with his
feet, as if to take possession of it. However, it was only two months
before that we had become, according to Captain Nemo, "passengers on board
the Nautilus," but, in reality, prisoners of its commander.
In a few minutes we were within musket-shot of the coast. The whole
horizon was hidden behind a beautiful curtain of forests. Enormous trees,
the trunks of which attained a height of 200 feet, were tied to each other
by garlands of bindweed, real natural hammocks, which a light breeze
rocked. They were mimosas, figs, hibisci, and palm trees, mingled together
in profusion; and under the shelter of their verdant vault grew orchids,
leguminous plants, and ferns.
But, without noticing all these beautiful specimens of Papuan flora,
the Canadian abandoned the agreeable for the useful. He discovered a
coco-tree, beat down some of the fruit, broke them, and we drunk the milk
and ate the nut with a satisfaction that protested against the ordinary
food on the Nautilus.
"Excellent!" said Ned Land.
"Exquisite!" replied Conseil.
"And I do not think," said the Canadian, "that he would object to our
introducing a cargo of coco-nuts on board."
"I do not think he would, but he would not taste them."
"So much the worse for him," said Conseil.
"And so much the better for us," replied Ned Land. "There will be more
for us."
"One word only, Master Land," I said to the harpooner, who was
beginning to ravage another coco-nut tree. "Coco-nuts are good things, but
before filling the canoe with them it would be wise to reconnoitre and see
if the island does not produce some substance not less useful. Fresh
vegetables would be welcome on board the Nautilus."
"Master is right," replied Conseil; "and I propose to reserve three
places in our vessel, one for fruits, the other for vegetables, and the
third for the venison, of which I have not yet seen the smallest
specimen."
"Conseil, we must not despair," said the Canadian.
"Let us continue," I returned, "and lie in wait. Although the island
seems uninhabited, it might still contain some individuals that would be
less hard than we on the nature of game."
"Ho! ho!" said Ned Land, moving his jaws significantly.
"Well, Ned!" said Conseil.
"My word!" returned the Canadian, "I begin to understand the charms of
anthropophagy."
"Ned! Ned! what are you saying? You, a man-eater? I should not feel
safe with you, especially as I share your cabin. I might perhaps wake one
day to find myself half devoured."
"Friend Conseil, I like you much, but not enough to eat you
unnecessarily."
"I would not trust you," replied Conseil. "But enough. We must
absolutely bring down some game to satisfy this cannibal, or else one of
these fine mornings, master will find only pieces of his servant to serve
him."
While we were talking thus, we were penetrating the sombre arches of
the forest, and for two hours we surveyed it in all directions.
Chance rewarded our search for eatable vegetables, and one of the most
useful products of the tropical zones furnished us with precious food that
we missed on board. I would speak of the bread-fruit tree, very abundant
in the island of Gilboa; and I remarked chiefly the variety destitute of
seeds, which bears in Malaya the name of "rima."
Ned Land knew these fruits well. He had already eaten many during his
numerous voyages, and he knew how to prepare the eatable substance.
Moreover, the sight of them excited him, and he could contain himself no
longer.
"Master," he said, "I shall die if I do not taste a little of this
bread-fruit pie."
"Taste it, friend Ned-taste it as you want. We are here to make
experiments-make them."
"It won't take long," said the Canadian.
And, provided with a lentil, he lighted a fire of dead wood that
crackled joyously. During this time, Conseil and I chose the best fruits
of the bread-fruit. Some had not then attained a sufficient degree of
maturity; and their thick skin covered a white but rather fibrous pulp.
Others, the greater number yellow and gelatinous, waited only to be
picked.
These fruits enclosed no kernel. Conseil brought a dozen to Ned Land,
who placed them on a coal fire, after having cut them in thick slices, and
while doing this repeating:
"You will see, master, how good this bread is. More so when one has
been deprived of it so long. It is not even bread," added he, "but a
delicate pastry. You have eaten none, master?"
"No, Ned."
"Very well, prepare yourself for a juicy thing. If you do not come for
more, I am no longer the king of harpooners."
After some minutes, the part of the fruits that was exposed to the fire
was completely roasted. The interior looked like a white pasty, a sort of
soft crumb, the flavour of which was like that of an artichoke.
It must be confessed this bread was excellent, and I ate of it with
great relish.
"What time is it now?" asked the Canadian.
"Two o'clock at least," replied Conseil.
"How time flies on firm ground!" sighed Ned Land.
"Let us be off," replied Conseil.
We returned through the forest, and completed our collection by a raid
upon the cabbage-palms, that we gathered from the tops of the trees,
little beans that I recognised as the "abrou" of the Malays, and yams of a
superior quality.
We were loaded when we reached the boat. But Ned Land did not find his
provisions sufficient. Fate, however, favoured us. Just as we were pushing
off, he perceived several trees, from twenty-five to thirty feet high, a
species of palm-tree.
At last, at five o'clock in the evening, loaded with our riches, we
quitted the shore, and half an hour after we hailed the Nautilus. No one
appeared on our arrival. The enormous iron-plated cylinder seemed
deserted. The provisions embarked, I descended to my chamber, and after
supper slept soundly.
The next day, 6th January, nothing new on board. Not a sound inside,
not a sign of life. The boat rested along the edge, in the same place in
which we had left it. We resolved to return to the island. Ned Land hoped
to be more fortunate than on the day before with regard to the hunt, and
wished to visit another part of the forest.
At dawn we set off. The boat, carried on by the waves that flowed to
shore, reached the island in a few minutes.
We landed, and, thinking that it was better to give in to the Canadian,
we followed Ned Land, whose long limbs threatened to distance us. He wound
up the coast towards the west: then, fording some torrents, he gained the
high plain that was bordered with admirable forests. Some kingfishers were
rambling along the water-courses, but they would not let themselves be
approached. Their circumspection proved to me that these birds knew what
to expect from bipeds of our species, and I concluded that, if the island
was not inhabited, at least human beings occasionally frequented it.
After crossing a rather large prairie, we arrived at the skirts of a
little wood that was enlivened by the songs and flight of a large number
of birds.
"There are only birds," said Conseil.
"But they are eatable," replied the harpooner.
"I do not agree with you, friend Ned, for I see only parrots there."
"Friend Conseil," said Ned, gravely, "the parrot is like pheasant to
those who have nothing else."
"And," I added, "this bird, suitably prepared, is worth knife and fork."
Indeed, under the thick foliage of this wood, a world of parrots were
flying from branch to branch, only needing a careful education to speak
the human language. For the moment, they were chattering with parrots of
all colours, and grave cockatoos, who seemed to meditate upon some
philosophical problem, whilst brilliant red lories passed like a piece of
bunting carried away by the breeze, papuans, with the finest azure
colours, and in all a variety of winged things most charming to behold,
but few eatable.
However, a bird peculiar to these lands, and which has never passed the
limits of the Arrow and Papuan islands, was wanting in this collection.
But fortune reserved it for me before long.
After passing through a moderately thick copse, we found a plain
obstructed with bushes. I saw then those magnificent birds, the
disposition of whose long feathers obliges them to fly against the wind.
Their undulating flight, graceful aerial curves, and the shading of their
colours, attracted and charmed one's looks. I had no trouble in
recognising them.
"Birds of paradise!" I exclaimed.
The Malays, who carry on a great trade in these birds with the Chinese,
have several means that we could not employ for taking them. Sometimes
they put snares on the top of high trees that the birds of paradise prefer
to frequent. Sometimes they catch them with a viscous birdlime that
paralyses their movements. They even go so far as to poison the fountains
that the birds generally drink from. But we were obliged to fire at them
during flight, which gave us few chances to bring them down; and, indeed,
we vainly exhausted one half our ammunition.
About eleven o'clock in the morning, the first range of mountains that
form the centre of the island was traversed, and we had killed nothing.
Hunger drove us on. The hunters had relied on the products of the chase,
and they were wrong. Happily Conseil, to his great surprise, made a double
shot and secured breakfast. He brought down a white pigeon and a
wood-pigeon, which, cleverly plucked and suspended from a skewer, was
roasted before a red fire of dead wood. While these interesting birds were
cooking, Ned prepared the fruit of the bread-tree. Then the wood-pigeons
were devoured to the bones, and declared excellent. The nutmeg, with which
they are in the habit of stuffing their crops, flavours their flesh and
renders it delicious eating.
"Now, Ned, what do you miss now?"
"Some four-footed game, M. Aronnax. All these pigeons are only
side-dishes and trifles; and until I have killed an animal with cutlets I
shall not be content."
"Nor I, Ned, if I do not catch a bird of paradise."
"Let us continue hunting," replied Conseil. "Let us go towards the sea.
We have arrived at the first declivities of the mountains, and I think we
had better regain the region of forests."
That was sensible advice, and was followed out. After walking for one
hour we had attained a forest of sago-trees. Some inoffensive serpents
glided away from us. The birds of paradise fled at our approach, and truly
I despaired of getting near one when Conseil, who was walking in front,
suddenly bent down, uttered a triumphal cry, and came back to me bringing
a magnificent specimen.
"Ah! bravo, Conseil!"
"Master is very good."
"No, my boy; you have made an excellent stroke. Take one of these
living birds, and carry it in your hand."
"If master will examine it, he will see that I have not deserved great
merit."
"Why, Conseil?"
"Because this bird is as drunk as a quail."
"Drunk!"
"Yes, sir; drunk with the nutmegs that it devoured under the
nutmeg-tree, under which I found it. See, friend Ned, see the monstrous
effects of intemperance!"
"By Jove!" exclaimed the Canadian, "because I have drunk gin for two
months, you must needs reproach me!"
However, I examined the curious bird. Conseil was right. The bird,
drunk with the juice, was quite powerless. It could not fly; it could
hardly walk.
This bird belonged to the most beautiful of the eight species that are
found in Papua and in the neighbouring islands. It was the "large emerald
bird, the most rare kind." It measured three feet in length. Its head was
comparatively small, its eyes placed near the opening of the beak, and
also small. But the shades of colour were beautiful, having a yellow beak,
brown feet and claws, nut-coloured wings with purple tips, pale yellow at
the back of the neck and head, and emerald colour at the throat, chestnut
on the breast and belly. Two horned, downy nets rose from below the tail,
that prolonged the long light feathers of admirable fineness, and they
completed the whole of this marvellous bird, that the natives have
poetically named the "bird of the sun."
But if my wishes were satisfied by the possession of the bird of
paradise, the Canadian's were not yet. Happily, about two o'clock, Ned
Land brought down a magnificent hog; from the brood of those the natives
call "bari-outang." The animal came in time for us to procure real
quadruped meat, and he was well received. Ned Land was very proud of his
shot. The hog, hit by the electric ball, fell stone dead. The Canadian
skinned and cleaned it properly, after having taken half a dozen cutlets,
destined to furnish us with a grilled repast in the evening. Then the hunt
was resumed, which was still more marked by Ned and Conseil's exploits.
Indeed, the two friends, beating the bushes, roused a herd of kangaroos
that fled and bounded along on their elastic paws. But these animals did
not take to flight so rapidly but what the electric capsule could stop
their course.
"Ah, Professor!" cried Ned Land, who was carried away by the delights