of the chase, "what excellent game, and stewed, too! What a supply for the
Nautilus! Two! three! five down! And to think that we shall eat that
flesh, and that the idiots on board shall not have a crumb!"
I think that, in the excess of his joy, the Canadian, if he had not
talked so much, would have killed them all. But he contented himself with
a single dozen of these interesting marsupians. These animals were small.
They were a species of those "kangaroo rabbits" that live habitually in
the hollows of trees, and whose speed is extreme; but they are moderately
fat, and furnish, at least, estimable food. We were very satisfied with
the results of the hunt. Happy Ned proposed to return to this enchanting
island the next day, for he wished to depopulate it of all the eatable
quadrupeds. But he had reckoned without his host.
At six o'clock in the evening we had regained the shore; our boat was
moored to the usual place. The Nautilus, like a long rock, emerged from
the waves two miles from the beach. Ned Land, without waiting, occupied
himself about the important dinner business. He understood all about
cooking well. The "bari-outang," grilled on the coals, soon scented the
air with a delicious odour.
Indeed, the dinner was excellent. Two wood-pigeons completed this
extraordinary menu. The sago pasty, the artocarpus bread, some mangoes,
half a dozen pineapples, and the liquor fermented from some coco-nuts,
overjoyed us. I even think that my worthy companions' ideas had not all
the plainness desirable.
"Suppose we do not return to the Nautilus this evening?" said Conseil.
"Suppose we never return?" added Ned Land.
Just then a stone fell at our feet and cut short the harpooner's
proposition.
We looked at the edge of the forest without rising, my hand stopping in
the action of putting it to my mouth, Ned Land's completing its office.
"Stones do not fall from the sky," remarked Conseil, "or they would
merit the name aerolites."
A second stone, carefully aimed, that made a savoury pigeon's leg fall
from Conseil's hand, gave still more weight to his observation. We all
three arose, shouldered our guns, and were ready to reply to any attack.
"Are they apes?" cried Ned Land.
"Very nearly-they are savages."
"To the boat!" I said, hurrying to the sea.
It was indeed necessary to beat a retreat, for about twenty natives
armed with bows and slings appeared on the skirts of a copse that masked
the horizon to the right, hardly a hundred steps from us.
Our boat was moored about sixty feet from us. The savages approached
us, not running, but making hostile demonstrations. Stones and arrows fell
thickly.
Ned Land had not wished to leave his provisions; and, in spite of his
imminent danger, his pig on one side and kangaroos on the other, he went
tolerably fast. In two minutes we were on the shore. To load the boat with
provisions and arms, to push it out to sea, and ship the oars, was the
work of an instant. We had not gone two cable-lengths, when a hundred
savages, howling and gesticulating, entered the water up to their waists.
I watched to see if their apparition would attract some men from the
Nautilus on to the platform. But no. The enormous machine, lying off, was
absolutely deserted.
Twenty minutes later we were on board. The panels were open. After
making the boat fast, we entered into the interior of the Nautilus.
I descended to the drawing-room, from whence I heard some chords.
Captain Nemo was there, bending over his organ, and plunged in a musical
ecstasy.
"Captain!"
He did not hear me.
"Captain!" I said, touching his hand.
He shuddered, and, turning round, said, "Ah! it is you, Professor?
Well, have you had a good hunt, have you botanised successfully?"
"Yes Captain; but we have unfortunately brought a troop of bipeds,
whose vicinity troubles me."
"What bipeds?"
"Savages."
"Savages!" he echoed, ironically. "So you are astonished, Professor, at
having set foot on a strange land and finding savages? Savages! where are
there not any? Besides, are they worse than others, these whom you call
savages?"
"But Captain-"
"How many have you counted?"
"A hundred at least."
"M. Aronnax," replied Captain Nemo, placing his fingers on the organ
stops, "when all the natives of Papua are assembled on this shore, the
Nautilus will have nothing to fear from their attacks."
The Captain's fingers were then running over the keys of the
instrument, and I remarked that he touched only the black keys, which gave
his melodies an essentially Scotch character. Soon he had forgotten my
presence, and had plunged into a reverie that I did not disturb. I went up
again on to the platform: night had already fallen; for, in this low
latitude, the sun sets rapidly and without twilight. I could only see the
island indistinctly; but the numerous fires, lighted on the beach, showed
that the natives did not think of leaving it. I was alone for several
hours, sometimes thinking of the natives- but without any dread of them,
for the imperturbable confidence of the Captain was catching-sometimes
forgetting them to admire the splendours of the night in the tropics. My
remembrances went to France in the train of those zodiacal stars that
would shine in some hours' time. The moon shone in the midst of the
constellations of the zenith.
The night slipped away without any mischance, the islanders frightened
no doubt at the sight of a monster aground in the bay. The panels were
open, and would have offered an easy access to the interior of the
Nautilus.
At six o'clock in the morning of the 8th January I went up on to the
platform. The dawn was breaking. The island soon showed itself through the
dissipating fogs, first the shore, then the summits.
The natives were there, more numerous than on the day before- five or
six hundred perhaps-some of them, profiting by the low water, had come on
to the coral, at less than two cable-lengths from the Nautilus. I
distinguished them easily; they were true Papuans, with athletic figures,
men of good race, large high foreheads, large, but not broad and flat, and
white teeth. Their woolly hair, with a reddish tinge, showed off on their
black shining bodies like those of the Nubians. From the lobes of their
ears, cut and distended, hung chaplets of bones. Most of these savages
were naked. Amongst them, I remarked some women, dressed from the hips to
knees in quite a crinoline of herbs, that sustained a vegetable waistband.
Some chiefs had ornamented their necks with a crescent and collars of
glass beads, red and white; nearly all were armed with bows, arrows, and
shields and carried on their shoulders a sort of net containing those
round stones which they cast from their slings with great skill. One of
these chiefs, rather near to the Nautilus, examined it attentively. He
was, perhaps, a "mado" of high rank, for he was draped in a mat of
banana-leaves, notched round the edges, and set off with brilliant
colours.
I could easily have knocked down this native, who was within a short
length; but I thought that it was better to wait for real hostile
demonstrations. Between Europeans and savages, it is proper for the
Europeans to parry sharply, not to attack.
During low water the natives roamed about near the Nautilus, but were
not troublesome; I heard them frequently repeat the word "Assai," and by
their gestures I understood that they invited me to go on land, an
invitation that I declined.
So that, on that day, the boat did not push off, to the great
displeasure of Master Land, who could not complete his provisions.
This adroit Canadian employed his time in preparing the viands and meat
that he had brought off the island. As for the savages, they returned to
the shore about eleven o'clock in the morning, as soon as the coral tops
began to disappear under the rising tide; but I saw their numbers had
increased considerably on the shore. Probably they came from the
neighbouring islands, or very likely from Papua. However, I had not seen a
single native canoe. Having nothing better to do, I thought of dragging
these beautiful limpid waters, under which I saw a profusion of shells,
zoophytes, and marine plants. Moreover, it was the last day that the
Nautilus would pass in these parts, if it float in open sea the next day,
according to Captain Nemo's promise.
I therefore called Conseil, who brought me a little light drag, very
like those for the oyster fishery. Now to work! For two hours we fished
unceasingly, but without bringing up any rarities. The drag was filled
with midas-ears, harps, melames, and particularly the most beautiful
hammers I have ever seen. We also brought up some sea-slugs,
pearl-oysters, and a dozen little turtles that were reserved for the
pantry on board.
But just when I expected it least, I put my hand on a wonder, I might
say a natural deformity, very rarely met with. Conseil was just dragging,
and his net came up filled with divers ordinary shells, when, all at once,
he saw me plunge my arm quickly into the net, to draw out a shell, and
heard me utter a cry.
"What is the matter, sir?" he asked in surprise. "Has master been
bitten?"
"No, my boy; but I would willingly have given a finger for my discovery."
"What discovery?"
"This shell," I said, holding up the object of my triumph.
"It is simply an olive porphyry." {genus species missing}
"Yes, Conseil; but, instead of being rolled from right to left, this
olive turns from left to right."
"Is it possible?"
"Yes, my boy; it is a left shell."
Shells are all right-handed, with rare exceptions; and, when by chance
their spiral is left, amateurs are ready to pay their weight in gold.
Conseil and I were absorbed in the contemplation of our treasure, and I
was promising myself to enrich the museum with it, when a stone
unfortunately thrown by a native struck against, and broke, the precious
object in Conseil's hand. I uttered a cry of despair! Conseil took up his
gun, and aimed at a savage who was poising his sling at ten yards from
him. I would have stopped him, but his blow took effect and broke the
bracelet of amulets which encircled the arm of the savage.
"Conseil!" cried I. "Conseil!"
"Well, sir! do you not see that the cannibal has commenced the attack?"
"A shell is not worth the life of a man," said I.
"Ah! the scoundrel!" cried Conseil; "I would rather he had broken my
shoulder!"
Conseil was in earnest, but I was not of his opinion. However, the
situation had changed some minutes before, and we had not perceived. A
score of canoes surrounded the Nautilus. These canoes, scooped out of the
trunk of a tree, long, narrow, well adapted for speed, were balanced by
means of a long bamboo pole, which floated on the water. They were managed
by skilful, half-naked paddlers, and I watched their advance with some
uneasiness. It was evident that these Papuans had already had dealings
with the Europeans and knew their ships. But this long iron cylinder
anchored in the bay, without masts or chimneys, what could they think of
it? Nothing good, for at first they kept at a respectful distance.
However, seeing it motionless, by degrees they took courage, and sought to
familiarise themselves with it. Now this familiarity was precisely what it
was necessary to avoid. Our arms, which were noiseless, could only produce
a moderate effect on the savages, who have little respect for aught but
blustering things. The thunderbolt without the reverberations of thunder
would frighten man but little, though the danger lies in the lightning,
not in the noise.
At this moment the canoes approached the Nautilus, and a shower of
arrows alighted on her.
I went down to the saloon, but found no one there. I ventured to knock
at the door that opened into the Captain's room. "Come in," was the
answer.
I entered, and found Captain Nemo deep in algebraical calculations of x
and other quantities.
"I am disturbing you," said I, for courtesy's sake.
"That is true, M. Aronnax," replied the Captain; "but I think you have
serious reasons for wishing to see me?"
"Very grave ones; the natives are surrounding us in their canoes, and
in a few minutes we shall certainly be attacked by many hundreds of
savages."
"Ah!," said Captain Nemo quietly, "they are come with their canoes?"
"Yes, sir."
"Well, sir, we must close the hatches."
"Exactly, and I came to say to you-"
"Nothing can be more simple," said Captain Nemo. And, pressing an
electric button, he transmitted an order to the ship's crew.
"It is all done, sir," said he, after some moments. "The pinnace is
ready, and the hatches are closed. You do not fear, I imagine, that these
gentlemen could stave in walls on which the balls of your frigate have had
no effect?"
"No, Captain; but a danger still exists."
"What is that, sir?"
"It is that to-morrow, at about this hour, we must open the hatches to
renew the air of the Nautilus. Now, if, at this moment, the Papuans should
occupy the platform, I do not see how you could prevent them from
entering."
"Then, sir, you suppose that they will board us?"
"I am certain of it."
"Well, sir, let them come. I see no reason for hindering them. After
all, these Papuans are poor creatures, and I am unwilling that my visit to
the island should cost the life of a single one of these wretches."
Upon that I was going away; But Captain Nemo detained me, and asked me
to sit down by him. He questioned me with interest about our excursions on
shore, and our hunting; and seemed not to understand the craving for meat
that possessed the Canadian. Then the conversation turned on various
subjects, and, without being more communicative, Captain Nemo showed
himself more amiable.
Amongst other things, we happened to speak of the situation of the
Nautilus, run aground in exactly the same spot in this strait where Dumont
d'Urville was nearly lost. Apropos of this:
"This D'Urville was one of your great sailors," said the Captain to me,
"one of your most intelligent navigators. He is the Captain Cook of you
Frenchmen. Unfortunate man of science, after having braved the icebergs of
the South Pole, the coral reefs of Oceania, the cannibals of the Pacific,
to perish miserably in a railway train! If this energetic man could have
reflected during the last moments of his life, what must have been
uppermost in his last thoughts, do you suppose?"
So speaking, Captain Nemo seemed moved, and his emotion gave me a
better opinion of him. Then, chart in hand, we reviewed the travels of the
French navigator, his voyages of circumnavigation, his double detention at
the South Pole, which led to the discovery of Adelaide and Louis Philippe,
and fixing the hydrographical bearings of the principal islands of
Oceania.
"That which your D'Urville has done on the surface of the seas," said
Captain Nemo, "that have I done under them, and more easily, more
completely than he. The Astrolabe and the Zelee, incessantly tossed about
by the hurricane, could not be worth the Nautilus, quiet repository of
labour that she is, truly motionless in the midst of the waters.
"To-morrow," added the Captain, rising, "to-morrow, at twenty minutes
to three p.m., the Nautilus shall float, and leave the Strait of Torres
uninjured."
Having curtly pronounced these words, Captain Nemo bowed slightly. This
was to dismiss me, and I went back to my room.
There I found Conseil, who wished to know the result of my interview
with the Captain.
"My boy," said I, "when I feigned to believe that his Nautilus was
threatened by the natives of Papua, the Captain answered me very
sarcastically. I have but one thing to say to you: Have confidence in him,
and go to sleep in peace."
"Have you no need of my services, sir?"
"No, my friend. What is Ned Land doing?"
"If you will excuse me, sir," answered Conseil, "friend Ned is busy
making a kangaroo-pie which will be a marvel."
I remained alone and went to bed, but slept indifferently. I heard the
noise of the savages, who stamped on the platform, uttering deafening
cries. The night passed thus, without disturbing the ordinary repose of
the crew. The presence of these cannibals affected them no more than the
soldiers of a masked battery care for the ants that crawl over its front.
At six in the morning I rose. The hatches had not been opened. The
inner air was not renewed, but the reservoirs, filled ready for any
emergency, were now resorted to, and discharged several cubic feet of
oxygen into the exhausted atmosphere of the Nautilus.
I worked in my room till noon, without having seen Captain Nemo, even
for an instant. On board no preparations for departure were visible.
I waited still some time, then went into the large saloon. The clock
marked half-past two. In ten minutes it would be high-tide: and, if
Captain Nemo had not made a rash promise, the Nautilus would be
immediately detached. If not, many months would pass ere she could leave
her bed of coral.
However, some warning vibrations began to be felt in the vessel. I
heard the keel grating against the rough calcareous bottom of the coral
reef.
At five-and-twenty minutes to three, Captain Nemo appeared in the
saloon.
"We are going to start," said he.
"Ah!" replied I.
"I have given the order to open the hatches."
"And the Papuans?"
"The Papuans?" answered Captain Nemo, slightly shrugging his shoulders.
"Will they not come inside the Nautilus?"
"How?"
"Only by leaping over the hatches you have opened."
"M. Aronnax," quietly answered Captain Nemo, "they will not enter the
hatches of the Nautilus in that way, even if they were open."
I looked at the Captain.
"You do not understand?" said he.
"Hardly."
"Well, come and you will see."
I directed my steps towards the central staircase. There Ned Land and
Conseil were slyly watching some of the ship's crew, who were opening the
hatches, while cries of rage and fearful vociferations resounded outside.
The port lids were pulled down outside. Twenty horrible faces appeared.
But the first native who placed his hand on the stair-rail, struck from
behind by some invisible force, I know not what, fled, uttering the most
fearful cries and making the wildest contortions.
Ten of his companions followed him. They met with the same fate.
Conseil was in ecstasy. Ned Land, carried away by his violent
instincts, rushed on to the staircase. But the moment he seized the rail
with both hands, he, in his turn, was overthrown.
"I am struck by a thunderbolt," cried he, with an oath.
This explained all. It was no rail; but a metallic cable charged with
electricity from the deck communicating with the platform. Whoever touched
it felt a powerful shock- and this shock would have been mortal if Captain
Nemo had discharged into the conductor the whole force of the current. It
might truly be said that between his assailants and himself he had
stretched a network of electricity which none could pass with impunity.
Meanwhile, the exasperated Papuans had beaten a retreat paralysed with
terror. As for us, half laughing, we consoled and rubbed the unfortunate
Ned Land, who swore like one possessed.
But at this moment the Nautilus, raised by the last waves of the tide,
quitted her coral bed exactly at the fortieth minute fixed by the Captain.
Her screw swept the waters slowly and majestically. Her speed increased
gradually, and, sailing on the surface of the ocean, she quitted safe and
sound the dangerous passes of the Straits of Torres.
The following day 10th January, the Nautilus continued her course
between two seas, but with such remarkable speed that I could not estimate
it at less than thirty-five miles an hour. The rapidity of her screw was
such that I could neither follow nor count its revolutions. When I
reflected that this marvellous electric agent, after having afforded
motion, heat, and light to the Nautilus, still protected her from outward
attack, and transformed her into an ark of safety which no profane hand
might touch without being thunderstricken, my admiration was unbounded,
and from the structure it extended to the engineer who had called it into
existence.
Our course was directed to the west, and on the 11th of January we
doubled Cape Wessel, situation in 135O long. and 10O S. lat., which forms
the east point of the Gulf of Carpentaria. The reefs were still numerous,
but more equalised, and marked on the chart with extreme precision. The
Nautilus easily avoided the breakers of Money to port and the Victoria
reefs to starboard, placed at 130O long. and on the 10th parallel, which
we strictly followed.
On the 13th of January, Captain Nemo arrived in the Sea of Timor, and
recognised the island of that name in 122O long.
From this point the direction of the Nautilus inclined towards the
south-west. Her head was set for the Indian Ocean. Where would the fancy
of Captain Nemo carry us next? Would he return to the coast of Asia or
would he approach again the shores of Europe? Improbable conjectures both,
to a man who fled from inhabited continents. Then would he descend to the
south? Was he going to double the Cape of Good Hope, then Cape Horn, and
finally go as far as the Antarctic pole? Would he come back at last to the
Pacific, where his Nautilus could sail free and independently? Time would
show.
After having skirted the sands of Cartier, of Hibernia, Seringapatam,
and Scott, last efforts of the solid against the liquid element, on the
14th of January we lost sight of land altogether. The speed of the
Nautilus was considerably abated, and with irregular course she sometimes
swam in the bosom of the waters, sometimes floated on their surface.
During this period of the voyage, Captain Nemo made some interesting
experiments on the varied temperature of the sea, in different beds. Under
ordinary conditions these observations are made by means of rather
complicated instruments, and with somewhat doubtful results, by means of
thermometrical sounding-leads, the glasses often breaking under the
pressure of the water, or an apparatus grounded on the variations of the
resistance of metals to the electric currents. Results so obtained could
not be correctly calculated. On the contrary, Captain Nemo went himself to
test the temperature in the depths of the sea, and his thermometer, placed
in communication with the different sheets of water, gave him the required
degree immediately and accurately.
It was thus that, either by overloading her reservoirs or by descending
obliquely by means of her inclined planes, the Nautilus successively
attained the depth of three, four, five, seven, nine, and ten thousand
yards, and the definite result of this experience was that the sea
preserved an average temperature of four degrees and a half at a depth of
five thousand fathoms under all latitudes.
On the 16th of January, the Nautilus seemed becalmed only a few yards
beneath the surface of the waves. Her electric apparatus remained inactive
and her motionless screw left her to drift at the mercy of the currents. I
supposed that the crew was occupied with interior repairs, rendered
necessary by the violence of the mechanical movements of the machine.
My companions and I then witnessed a curious spectacle. The hatches of
the saloon were open, and, as the beacon light of the Nautilus was not in
action, a dim obscurity reigned in the midst of the waters. I observed the
state of the sea, under these conditions, and the largest fish appeared to
me no more than scarcely defined shadows, when the Nautilus found herself
suddenly transported into full light. I thought at first that the beacon
had been lighted, and was casting its electric radiance into the liquid
mass. I was mistaken, and after a rapid survey perceived my error.
The Nautilus floated in the midst of a phosphorescent bed which, in
this obscurity, became quite dazzling. It was produced by myriads of
luminous animalculae, whose brilliancy was increased as they glided over
the metallic hull of the vessel. I was surprised by lightning in the midst
of these luminous sheets, as though they bad been rivulets of lead melted
in an ardent furnace or metallic masses brought to a white heat, so that,
by force of contrast, certain portions of light appeared to cast a shade
in the midst of the general ignition, from which all shade seemed
banished. No; this was not the calm irradiation of our ordinary lightning.
There was unusual life and vigour: this was truly living light!
In reality, it was an infinite agglomeration of coloured infusoria, of
veritable globules of jelly, provided with a threadlike tentacle, and of
which as many as twenty-five thousand have been counted in less than two
cubic half-inches of water.
During several hours the Nautilus floated in these brilliant waves, and
our admiration increased as we watched the marine monsters disporting
themselves like salamanders. I saw there in the midst of this fire that
burns not the swift and elegant porpoise (the indefatigable clown of the
ocean), and some swordfish ten feet long, those prophetic heralds of the
hurricane whose formidable sword would now and then strike the glass of
the saloon. Then appeared the smaller fish, the balista, the leaping
mackerel, wolf-thorn-tails, and a hundred others which striped the
luminous atmosphere as they swam. This dazzling spectacle was enchanting!
Perhaps some atmospheric condition increased the intensity of this
phenomenon. Perhaps some storm agitated the surface of the waves. But at
this depth of some yards, the Nautilus was unmoved by its fury and reposed
peacefully in still water.
So we progressed, incessantly charmed by some new marvel. The days
passed rapidly away, and I took no account of them. Ned, according to
habit, tried to vary the diet on board. Like snails, we were fixed to our
shells, and I declare it is easy to lead a snail's life.
Thus this life seemed easy and natural, and we thought no longer of the
life we led on land; but something happened to recall us to the
strangeness of our situation.
On the 18th of January, the Nautilus was in 105O long. and 15O S. lat.
The weather was threatening, the sea rough and rolling. There was a strong
east wind. The barometer, which had been going down for some days,
foreboded a coming storm. I went up on to the platform just as the second
lieutenant was taking the measure of the horary angles, and waited,
according to habit till the daily phrase was said. But on this day it was
exchanged for another phrase not less incomprehensible. Almost directly, I
saw Captain Nemo appear with a glass, looking towards the horizon.
For some minutes he was immovable, without taking his eye off the point
of observation. Then he lowered his glass and exchanged a few words with
his lieutenant. The latter seemed to be a victim to some emotion that he
tried in vain to repress. Captain Nemo, having more command over himself,
was cool. He seemed, too, to be making some objections to which the
lieutenant replied by formal assurances. At least I concluded so by the
difference of their tones and gestures. For myself, I had looked carefully
in the direction indicated without seeing anything. The sky and water were
lost in the clear line of the horizon.
However, Captain Nemo walked from one end of the platform to the other,
without looking at me, perhaps without seeing me. His step was firm, but
less regular than usual. He stopped sometimes, crossed his arms, and
observed the sea. What could he be looking for on that immense expanse?
The Nautilus was then some hundreds of miles from the nearest coast.
The lieutenant had taken up the glass and examined the horizon
steadfastly, going and coming, stamping his foot and showing more nervous
agitation than his superior officer. Besides, this mystery must
necessarily be solved, and before long; for, upon an order from Captain
Nemo, the engine, increasing its propelling power, made the screw turn
more rapidly.
Just then the lieutenant drew the Captain's attention again. The latter
stopped walking and directed his glass towards the place indicated. He
looked long. I felt very much puzzled, and descended to the drawing-room,
and took out an excellent telescope that I generally used. Then, leaning
on the cage of the watch-light that jutted out from the front of the
platform, set myself to look over all the line of the sky and sea.
But my eye was no sooner applied to the glass than it was quickly
snatched out of my hands.
I turned round. Captain Nemo was before me, but I did not know him. His
face was transfigured. His eyes flashed sullenly; his teeth were set; his
stiff body, clenched fists, and head shrunk between his shoulders,
betrayed the violent agitation that pervaded his whole frame. He did not
move. My glass, fallen from his hands, had rolled at his feet.
Had I unwittingly provoked this fit of anger? Did this incomprehensible
person imagine that I had discovered some forbidden secret? No; I was not
the object of this hatred, for he was not looking at me; his eye was
steadily fixed upon the impenetrable point of the horizon. At last Captain
Nemo recovered himself. His agitation subsided. He addressed some words in
a foreign language to his lieutenant, then turned to me. "M. Aronnax," he
said, in rather an imperious tone, "I require you to keep one of the
conditions that bind you to me."
"What is it, Captain?"
"You must be confined, with your companions, until I think fit to
release you."
"You are the master," I replied, looking steadily at him. "But may I
ask you one question?"
"None, sir."
There was no resisting this imperious command, it would have been
useless. I went down to the cabin occupied by Ned Land and Conseil, and
told them the Captain's determination. You may judge how this
communication was received by the Canadian.
But there was not time for altercation. Four of the crew waited at the
door, and conducted us to that cell where we had passed our first night on
board the Nautilus.
Ned Land would have remonstrated, but the door was shut upon him.
"Will master tell me what this means?" asked Conseil.
I told my companions what had passed. They were as much astonished as
I, and equally at a loss how to account for it.
Meanwhile, I was absorbed in my own reflections, and could think of
nothing but the strange fear depicted in the Captain's countenance. I was
utterly at a loss to account for it, when my cogitations were disturbed by
these words from Ned Land:
"Hallo! breakfast is ready."
And indeed the table was laid. Evidently Captain Nemo had given this
order at the same time that he had hastened the speed of the Nautilus.
"Will master permit me to make a recommendation?" asked Conseil.
"Yes, my boy."
"Well, it is that master breakfasts. It is prudent, for we do not know
what may happen."
"You are right, Conseil."
"Unfortunately," said Ned Land, "they have only given us the ship's
fare."
"Friend Ned," asked Conseil, "what would you have said if the breakfast
had been entirely forgotten?"
This argument cut short the harpooner's recriminations.
We sat down to table. The meal was eaten in silence.
Just then the luminous globe that lighted the cell went out, and left
us in total darkness. Ned Land was soon asleep, and what astonished me was
that Conseil went off into a heavy slumber. I was thinking what could have
caused his irresistible drowsiness, when I felt my brain becoming
stupefied. In spite of my efforts to keep my eyes open, they would close.
A painful suspicion seized me. Evidently soporific substances had been
mixed with the food we had just taken. Imprisonment was not enough to
conceal Captain Nemo's projects from us, sleep was more necessary. I then
heard the panels shut. The undulations of the sea, which caused a slight
rolling motion, ceased. Had the Nautilus quitted the surface of the ocean?
Had it gone back to the motionless bed of water? I tried to resist sleep.
It was impossible. My breathing grew weak. I felt a mortal cold freeze my
stiffened and half-paralysed limbs. My eye lids, like leaden caps, fell
over my eyes. I could not raise them; a morbid sleep, full of
hallucinations, bereft me of my being. Then the visions disappeared, and
left me in complete insensibility.
The next day I woke with my head singularly clear. To my great
surprise, I was in my own room. My companions, no doubt, had been
reinstated in their cabin, without having perceived it any more than I. Of
what had passed during the night they were as ignorant as I was, and to
penetrate this mystery I only reckoned upon the chances of the future.
I then thought of quitting my room. Was I free again or a prisoner?
Quite free. I opened the door, went to the half-deck, went up the central
stairs. The panels, shut the evening before, were open. I went on to the
platform.
Ned Land and Conseil waited there for me. I questioned them; they knew
nothing. Lost in a heavy sleep in which they had been totally unconscious,
they had been astonished at finding themselves in their cabin.
As for the Nautilus, it seemed quiet and mysterious as ever. It floated
on the surface of the waves at a moderate pace. Nothing seemed changed on
board.
The second lieutenant then came on to the platform, and gave the usual
order below.
As for Captain Nemo, he did not appear.
Of the people on board, I only saw the impassive steward, who served me
with his usual dumb regularity.
About two o'clock, I was in the drawing-room, busied in arranging my
notes, when the Captain opened the door and appeared. I bowed. He made a
slight inclination in return, without speaking. I resumed my work, hoping
that he would perhaps give me some explanation of the events of the
preceding night. He made none. I looked at him. He seemed fatigued; his
heavy eyes had not been refreshed by sleep; his face looked very
sorrowful. He walked to and fro, sat down and got up again, took a chance
book, put it down, consulted his instruments without taking his habitual
notes, and seemed restless and uneasy. At last, he came up to me, and
said:
"Are you a doctor, M. Aronnax?"
I so little expected such a question that I stared some time at him
without answering.
"Are you a doctor?" he repeated. "Several of your colleagues have
studied medicine."
"Well," said I, "I am a doctor and resident surgeon to the hospital. I
practised several years before entering the museum."
"Very well, sir."
My answer had evidently satisfied the Captain. But, not knowing what he
would say next, I waited for other questions, reserving my answers
according to circumstances.
"M. Aronnax, will you consent to prescribe for one of my men?" be asked.
"Is he ill?"
"Yes."
"I am ready to follow you."
"Come, then."
I own my heart beat, I do not know why. I saw certain connection
between the illness of one of the crew and the events of the day before;
and this mystery interested me at least as much as the sick man.
Captain Nemo conducted me to the poop of the Nautilus, and took me into
a cabin situated near the sailors' quarters.
There, on a bed, lay a man about forty years of age, with a resolute
expression of countenance, a true type of an Anglo-Saxon.
I leant over him. He was not only ill, he was wounded. His head,
swathed in bandages covered with blood, lay on a pillow. I undid the
bandages, and the wounded man looked at me with his large eyes and gave no
sign of pain as I did it. It was a horrible wound. The skull, shattered by
some deadly weapon, left the brain exposed, which was much injured. Clots
of blood had formed in the bruised and broken mass, in colour like the
dregs of wine.
There was both contusion and suffusion of the brain. His breathing was
slow, and some spasmodic movements of the muscles agitated his face. I
felt his pulse. It was intermittent. The extremities of the body were
growing cold already, and I saw death must inevitably ensue. After
dressing the unfortunate man's wounds, I readjusted the bandages on his
head, and turned to Captain Nemo.
"What caused this wound?" I asked.
"What does it signify?" he replied, evasively. "A shock has broken one
of the levers of the engine, which struck myself. But your opinion as to
his state?"
I hesitated before giving it.
"You may speak," said the Captain. "This man does not understand
French."
I gave a last look at the wounded man.
"He will be dead in two hours."
"Can nothing save him?"
"Nothing."
Captain Nemo's hand contracted, and some tears glistened in his eyes,
which I thought incapable of shedding any.
For some moments I still watched the dying man, whose life ebbed
slowly. His pallor increased under the electric light that was shed over
his death-bed. I looked at his intelligent forehead, furrowed with
premature wrinkles, produced probably by misfortune and sorrow. I tried to
learn the secret of his life from the last words that escaped his lips.
"You can go now, M. Aronnax," said the Captain.
I left him in the dying man's cabin, and returned to my room much
affected by this scene. During the whole day, I was haunted by
uncomfortable suspicions, and at night I slept badly, and between my
broken dreams I fancied I heard distant sighs like the notes of a funeral
psalm. Were they the prayers of the dead, murmured in that language that I
could not understand?
The next morning I went on to the bridge. Captain Nemo was there before
me. As soon as he perceived me he came to me.
"Professor, will it be convenient to you to make a submarine excursion
to-day?"
"With my companions?" I asked.
"If they like."
"We obey your orders, Captain."
"Will you be so good then as to put on your cork jackets?"
It was not a question of dead or dying. I rejoined Ned Land and
Conseil, and told them of Captain Nemo's proposition. Conseil hastened to
accept it, and this time the Canadian seemed quite willing to follow our
example.
It was eight o'clock in the morning. At half-past eight we were
equipped for this new excursion, and provided with two contrivances for
light and breathing. The double door was open; and, accompanied by Captain
Nemo, who was followed by a dozen of the crew, we set foot, at a depth of
about thirty feet, on the solid bottom on which the Nautilus rested.
A slight declivity ended in an uneven bottom, at fifteen fathoms depth.
This bottom differed entirely from the one I had visited on my first
excursion under the waters of the Pacific Ocean. Here, there was no fine
sand, no submarine prairies, no sea-forest. I immediately recognised that
marvellous region in which, on that day, the Captain did the honours to
us. It was the coral kingdom.
The light produced a thousand charming varieties, playing in the midst
of the branches that were so vividly coloured. I seemed to see the
membraneous and cylindrical tubes tremble beneath the undulation of the
waters. I was tempted to gather their fresh petals, ornamented with
delicate tentacles, some just blown, the others budding, while a small
fish, swimming swiftly, touched them slightly, like flights of birds. But
if my hand approached these living flowers, these animated, sensitive
plants, the whole colony took alarm. The white petals re-entered their red
cases, the flowers faded as I looked, and the bush changed into a block of
stony knobs.
Chance had thrown me just by the most precious specimens of the
zoophyte. This coral was more valuable than that found in the
Mediterranean, on the coasts of France, Italy and Barbary. Its tints
justified the poetical names of "Flower of Blood," and "Froth of Blood,"
that trade has given to its most beautiful productions. Coral is sold for
L20 per ounce; and in this place the watery beds would make the fortunes
of a company of coral-divers. This precious matter, often confused with
other polypi, formed then the inextricable plots called "macciota," and on
which I noticed several beautiful specimens of pink coral.
{opening sentence missing} Real petrified thickets, long joints of
fantastic architecture, were disclosed before us. Captain Nemo placed
himself under a dark gallery, where by a slight declivity we reached a
depth of a hundred yards. The light from our lamps produced sometimes
magical effects, following the rough outlines of the natural arches and
pendants disposed like lustres, that were tipped with points of fire.
At last, after walking two hours, we had attained a depth of about
three hundred yards, that is to say, the extreme limit on which coral
begins to form. But there was no isolated bush, nor modest brushwood, at
the bottom of lofty trees. It was an immense forest of large mineral
vegetations, enormous petrified trees, united by garlands of elegant
sea-bindweed, all adorned with clouds and reflections. We passed freely
under their high branches, lost in the shade of the waves.
Captain Nemo had stopped. I and my companions halted, and, turning
round, I saw his men were forming a semi-circle round their chief.
Watching attentively, I observed that four of them carried on their
shoulders an object of an oblong shape.
We occupied, in this place, the centre of a vast glade surrounded by
the lofty foliage of the submarine forest. Our lamps threw over this place
a sort of clear twilight that singularly elongated the shadows on the
ground. At the end of the glade the darkness increased, and was only
relieved by little sparks reflected by the points of coral.
Ned Land and Conseil were near me. We watched, and I thought I was
going to witness a strange scene. On observing the ground, I saw that it
was raised in certain places by slight excrescences encrusted with limy
deposits, and disposed with a regularity that betrayed the hand of man.
In the midst of the glade, on a pedestal of rocks roughly piled up,
stood a cross of coral that extended its long arms that one might have
thought were made of petrified blood. Upon a sign from Captain Nemo one of
the men advanced; and at some feet from the cross he began to dig a hole
with a pickaxe that he took from his belt. I understood all! This glade
was a cemetery, this hole a tomb, this oblong object the body of the man
who had died in the night! The Captain and his men had come to bury their
companion in this general resting-place, at the bottom of this
inaccessible ocean!
The grave was being dug slowly; the fish fled on all sides while their
retreat was being thus disturbed; I heard the strokes of the pickaxe,
which sparkled when it hit upon some flint lost at the bottom of the
waters. The hole was soon large and deep enough to receive the body. Then
the bearers approached; the body, enveloped in a tissue of white linen,
was lowered into the damp grave. Captain Nemo, with his arms crossed on
his breast, and all the friends of him who had loved them, knelt in
prayer.
The grave was then filled in with the rubbish taken from the ground,
which formed a slight mound. When this was done, Captain Nemo and his men
rose; then, approaching the grave, they knelt again, and all extended
their hands in sign of a last adieu. Then the funeral procession returned
to the Nautilus, passing under the arches of the forest, in the midst of
thickets, along the coral bushes, and still on the ascent. At last the
light of the ship appeared, and its luminous track guided us to the
Nautilus. At one o'clock we had returned.
As soon as I had changed my clothes I went up on to the platform, and,
a prey to conflicting emotions, I sat down near the binnacle. Captain Nemo
joined me. I rose and said to him:
"So, as I said he would, this man died in the night?"
"Yes, M. Aronnax."
"And he rests now, near his companions, in the coral cemetery?"
"Yes, forgotten by all else, but not by us. We dug the grave, and the
polypi undertake to seal our dead for eternity." And, burying his face
quickly in his hands, he tried in vain to suppress a sob. Then he added:
"Our peaceful cemetery is there, some hundred feet below the surface of
Nautilus! Two! three! five down! And to think that we shall eat that
flesh, and that the idiots on board shall not have a crumb!"
I think that, in the excess of his joy, the Canadian, if he had not
talked so much, would have killed them all. But he contented himself with
a single dozen of these interesting marsupians. These animals were small.
They were a species of those "kangaroo rabbits" that live habitually in
the hollows of trees, and whose speed is extreme; but they are moderately
fat, and furnish, at least, estimable food. We were very satisfied with
the results of the hunt. Happy Ned proposed to return to this enchanting
island the next day, for he wished to depopulate it of all the eatable
quadrupeds. But he had reckoned without his host.
At six o'clock in the evening we had regained the shore; our boat was
moored to the usual place. The Nautilus, like a long rock, emerged from
the waves two miles from the beach. Ned Land, without waiting, occupied
himself about the important dinner business. He understood all about
cooking well. The "bari-outang," grilled on the coals, soon scented the
air with a delicious odour.
Indeed, the dinner was excellent. Two wood-pigeons completed this
extraordinary menu. The sago pasty, the artocarpus bread, some mangoes,
half a dozen pineapples, and the liquor fermented from some coco-nuts,
overjoyed us. I even think that my worthy companions' ideas had not all
the plainness desirable.
"Suppose we do not return to the Nautilus this evening?" said Conseil.
"Suppose we never return?" added Ned Land.
Just then a stone fell at our feet and cut short the harpooner's
proposition.
We looked at the edge of the forest without rising, my hand stopping in
the action of putting it to my mouth, Ned Land's completing its office.
"Stones do not fall from the sky," remarked Conseil, "or they would
merit the name aerolites."
A second stone, carefully aimed, that made a savoury pigeon's leg fall
from Conseil's hand, gave still more weight to his observation. We all
three arose, shouldered our guns, and were ready to reply to any attack.
"Are they apes?" cried Ned Land.
"Very nearly-they are savages."
"To the boat!" I said, hurrying to the sea.
It was indeed necessary to beat a retreat, for about twenty natives
armed with bows and slings appeared on the skirts of a copse that masked
the horizon to the right, hardly a hundred steps from us.
Our boat was moored about sixty feet from us. The savages approached
us, not running, but making hostile demonstrations. Stones and arrows fell
thickly.
Ned Land had not wished to leave his provisions; and, in spite of his
imminent danger, his pig on one side and kangaroos on the other, he went
tolerably fast. In two minutes we were on the shore. To load the boat with
provisions and arms, to push it out to sea, and ship the oars, was the
work of an instant. We had not gone two cable-lengths, when a hundred
savages, howling and gesticulating, entered the water up to their waists.
I watched to see if their apparition would attract some men from the
Nautilus on to the platform. But no. The enormous machine, lying off, was
absolutely deserted.
Twenty minutes later we were on board. The panels were open. After
making the boat fast, we entered into the interior of the Nautilus.
I descended to the drawing-room, from whence I heard some chords.
Captain Nemo was there, bending over his organ, and plunged in a musical
ecstasy.
"Captain!"
He did not hear me.
"Captain!" I said, touching his hand.
He shuddered, and, turning round, said, "Ah! it is you, Professor?
Well, have you had a good hunt, have you botanised successfully?"
"Yes Captain; but we have unfortunately brought a troop of bipeds,
whose vicinity troubles me."
"What bipeds?"
"Savages."
"Savages!" he echoed, ironically. "So you are astonished, Professor, at
having set foot on a strange land and finding savages? Savages! where are
there not any? Besides, are they worse than others, these whom you call
savages?"
"But Captain-"
"How many have you counted?"
"A hundred at least."
"M. Aronnax," replied Captain Nemo, placing his fingers on the organ
stops, "when all the natives of Papua are assembled on this shore, the
Nautilus will have nothing to fear from their attacks."
The Captain's fingers were then running over the keys of the
instrument, and I remarked that he touched only the black keys, which gave
his melodies an essentially Scotch character. Soon he had forgotten my
presence, and had plunged into a reverie that I did not disturb. I went up
again on to the platform: night had already fallen; for, in this low
latitude, the sun sets rapidly and without twilight. I could only see the
island indistinctly; but the numerous fires, lighted on the beach, showed
that the natives did not think of leaving it. I was alone for several
hours, sometimes thinking of the natives- but without any dread of them,
for the imperturbable confidence of the Captain was catching-sometimes
forgetting them to admire the splendours of the night in the tropics. My
remembrances went to France in the train of those zodiacal stars that
would shine in some hours' time. The moon shone in the midst of the
constellations of the zenith.
The night slipped away without any mischance, the islanders frightened
no doubt at the sight of a monster aground in the bay. The panels were
open, and would have offered an easy access to the interior of the
Nautilus.
At six o'clock in the morning of the 8th January I went up on to the
platform. The dawn was breaking. The island soon showed itself through the
dissipating fogs, first the shore, then the summits.
The natives were there, more numerous than on the day before- five or
six hundred perhaps-some of them, profiting by the low water, had come on
to the coral, at less than two cable-lengths from the Nautilus. I
distinguished them easily; they were true Papuans, with athletic figures,
men of good race, large high foreheads, large, but not broad and flat, and
white teeth. Their woolly hair, with a reddish tinge, showed off on their
black shining bodies like those of the Nubians. From the lobes of their
ears, cut and distended, hung chaplets of bones. Most of these savages
were naked. Amongst them, I remarked some women, dressed from the hips to
knees in quite a crinoline of herbs, that sustained a vegetable waistband.
Some chiefs had ornamented their necks with a crescent and collars of
glass beads, red and white; nearly all were armed with bows, arrows, and
shields and carried on their shoulders a sort of net containing those
round stones which they cast from their slings with great skill. One of
these chiefs, rather near to the Nautilus, examined it attentively. He
was, perhaps, a "mado" of high rank, for he was draped in a mat of
banana-leaves, notched round the edges, and set off with brilliant
colours.
I could easily have knocked down this native, who was within a short
length; but I thought that it was better to wait for real hostile
demonstrations. Between Europeans and savages, it is proper for the
Europeans to parry sharply, not to attack.
During low water the natives roamed about near the Nautilus, but were
not troublesome; I heard them frequently repeat the word "Assai," and by
their gestures I understood that they invited me to go on land, an
invitation that I declined.
So that, on that day, the boat did not push off, to the great
displeasure of Master Land, who could not complete his provisions.
This adroit Canadian employed his time in preparing the viands and meat
that he had brought off the island. As for the savages, they returned to
the shore about eleven o'clock in the morning, as soon as the coral tops
began to disappear under the rising tide; but I saw their numbers had
increased considerably on the shore. Probably they came from the
neighbouring islands, or very likely from Papua. However, I had not seen a
single native canoe. Having nothing better to do, I thought of dragging
these beautiful limpid waters, under which I saw a profusion of shells,
zoophytes, and marine plants. Moreover, it was the last day that the
Nautilus would pass in these parts, if it float in open sea the next day,
according to Captain Nemo's promise.
I therefore called Conseil, who brought me a little light drag, very
like those for the oyster fishery. Now to work! For two hours we fished
unceasingly, but without bringing up any rarities. The drag was filled
with midas-ears, harps, melames, and particularly the most beautiful
hammers I have ever seen. We also brought up some sea-slugs,
pearl-oysters, and a dozen little turtles that were reserved for the
pantry on board.
But just when I expected it least, I put my hand on a wonder, I might
say a natural deformity, very rarely met with. Conseil was just dragging,
and his net came up filled with divers ordinary shells, when, all at once,
he saw me plunge my arm quickly into the net, to draw out a shell, and
heard me utter a cry.
"What is the matter, sir?" he asked in surprise. "Has master been
bitten?"
"No, my boy; but I would willingly have given a finger for my discovery."
"What discovery?"
"This shell," I said, holding up the object of my triumph.
"It is simply an olive porphyry." {genus species missing}
"Yes, Conseil; but, instead of being rolled from right to left, this
olive turns from left to right."
"Is it possible?"
"Yes, my boy; it is a left shell."
Shells are all right-handed, with rare exceptions; and, when by chance
their spiral is left, amateurs are ready to pay their weight in gold.
Conseil and I were absorbed in the contemplation of our treasure, and I
was promising myself to enrich the museum with it, when a stone
unfortunately thrown by a native struck against, and broke, the precious
object in Conseil's hand. I uttered a cry of despair! Conseil took up his
gun, and aimed at a savage who was poising his sling at ten yards from
him. I would have stopped him, but his blow took effect and broke the
bracelet of amulets which encircled the arm of the savage.
"Conseil!" cried I. "Conseil!"
"Well, sir! do you not see that the cannibal has commenced the attack?"
"A shell is not worth the life of a man," said I.
"Ah! the scoundrel!" cried Conseil; "I would rather he had broken my
shoulder!"
Conseil was in earnest, but I was not of his opinion. However, the
situation had changed some minutes before, and we had not perceived. A
score of canoes surrounded the Nautilus. These canoes, scooped out of the
trunk of a tree, long, narrow, well adapted for speed, were balanced by
means of a long bamboo pole, which floated on the water. They were managed
by skilful, half-naked paddlers, and I watched their advance with some
uneasiness. It was evident that these Papuans had already had dealings
with the Europeans and knew their ships. But this long iron cylinder
anchored in the bay, without masts or chimneys, what could they think of
it? Nothing good, for at first they kept at a respectful distance.
However, seeing it motionless, by degrees they took courage, and sought to
familiarise themselves with it. Now this familiarity was precisely what it
was necessary to avoid. Our arms, which were noiseless, could only produce
a moderate effect on the savages, who have little respect for aught but
blustering things. The thunderbolt without the reverberations of thunder
would frighten man but little, though the danger lies in the lightning,
not in the noise.
At this moment the canoes approached the Nautilus, and a shower of
arrows alighted on her.
I went down to the saloon, but found no one there. I ventured to knock
at the door that opened into the Captain's room. "Come in," was the
answer.
I entered, and found Captain Nemo deep in algebraical calculations of x
and other quantities.
"I am disturbing you," said I, for courtesy's sake.
"That is true, M. Aronnax," replied the Captain; "but I think you have
serious reasons for wishing to see me?"
"Very grave ones; the natives are surrounding us in their canoes, and
in a few minutes we shall certainly be attacked by many hundreds of
savages."
"Ah!," said Captain Nemo quietly, "they are come with their canoes?"
"Yes, sir."
"Well, sir, we must close the hatches."
"Exactly, and I came to say to you-"
"Nothing can be more simple," said Captain Nemo. And, pressing an
electric button, he transmitted an order to the ship's crew.
"It is all done, sir," said he, after some moments. "The pinnace is
ready, and the hatches are closed. You do not fear, I imagine, that these
gentlemen could stave in walls on which the balls of your frigate have had
no effect?"
"No, Captain; but a danger still exists."
"What is that, sir?"
"It is that to-morrow, at about this hour, we must open the hatches to
renew the air of the Nautilus. Now, if, at this moment, the Papuans should
occupy the platform, I do not see how you could prevent them from
entering."
"Then, sir, you suppose that they will board us?"
"I am certain of it."
"Well, sir, let them come. I see no reason for hindering them. After
all, these Papuans are poor creatures, and I am unwilling that my visit to
the island should cost the life of a single one of these wretches."
Upon that I was going away; But Captain Nemo detained me, and asked me
to sit down by him. He questioned me with interest about our excursions on
shore, and our hunting; and seemed not to understand the craving for meat
that possessed the Canadian. Then the conversation turned on various
subjects, and, without being more communicative, Captain Nemo showed
himself more amiable.
Amongst other things, we happened to speak of the situation of the
Nautilus, run aground in exactly the same spot in this strait where Dumont
d'Urville was nearly lost. Apropos of this:
"This D'Urville was one of your great sailors," said the Captain to me,
"one of your most intelligent navigators. He is the Captain Cook of you
Frenchmen. Unfortunate man of science, after having braved the icebergs of
the South Pole, the coral reefs of Oceania, the cannibals of the Pacific,
to perish miserably in a railway train! If this energetic man could have
reflected during the last moments of his life, what must have been
uppermost in his last thoughts, do you suppose?"
So speaking, Captain Nemo seemed moved, and his emotion gave me a
better opinion of him. Then, chart in hand, we reviewed the travels of the
French navigator, his voyages of circumnavigation, his double detention at
the South Pole, which led to the discovery of Adelaide and Louis Philippe,
and fixing the hydrographical bearings of the principal islands of
Oceania.
"That which your D'Urville has done on the surface of the seas," said
Captain Nemo, "that have I done under them, and more easily, more
completely than he. The Astrolabe and the Zelee, incessantly tossed about
by the hurricane, could not be worth the Nautilus, quiet repository of
labour that she is, truly motionless in the midst of the waters.
"To-morrow," added the Captain, rising, "to-morrow, at twenty minutes
to three p.m., the Nautilus shall float, and leave the Strait of Torres
uninjured."
Having curtly pronounced these words, Captain Nemo bowed slightly. This
was to dismiss me, and I went back to my room.
There I found Conseil, who wished to know the result of my interview
with the Captain.
"My boy," said I, "when I feigned to believe that his Nautilus was
threatened by the natives of Papua, the Captain answered me very
sarcastically. I have but one thing to say to you: Have confidence in him,
and go to sleep in peace."
"Have you no need of my services, sir?"
"No, my friend. What is Ned Land doing?"
"If you will excuse me, sir," answered Conseil, "friend Ned is busy
making a kangaroo-pie which will be a marvel."
I remained alone and went to bed, but slept indifferently. I heard the
noise of the savages, who stamped on the platform, uttering deafening
cries. The night passed thus, without disturbing the ordinary repose of
the crew. The presence of these cannibals affected them no more than the
soldiers of a masked battery care for the ants that crawl over its front.
At six in the morning I rose. The hatches had not been opened. The
inner air was not renewed, but the reservoirs, filled ready for any
emergency, were now resorted to, and discharged several cubic feet of
oxygen into the exhausted atmosphere of the Nautilus.
I worked in my room till noon, without having seen Captain Nemo, even
for an instant. On board no preparations for departure were visible.
I waited still some time, then went into the large saloon. The clock
marked half-past two. In ten minutes it would be high-tide: and, if
Captain Nemo had not made a rash promise, the Nautilus would be
immediately detached. If not, many months would pass ere she could leave
her bed of coral.
However, some warning vibrations began to be felt in the vessel. I
heard the keel grating against the rough calcareous bottom of the coral
reef.
At five-and-twenty minutes to three, Captain Nemo appeared in the
saloon.
"We are going to start," said he.
"Ah!" replied I.
"I have given the order to open the hatches."
"And the Papuans?"
"The Papuans?" answered Captain Nemo, slightly shrugging his shoulders.
"Will they not come inside the Nautilus?"
"How?"
"Only by leaping over the hatches you have opened."
"M. Aronnax," quietly answered Captain Nemo, "they will not enter the
hatches of the Nautilus in that way, even if they were open."
I looked at the Captain.
"You do not understand?" said he.
"Hardly."
"Well, come and you will see."
I directed my steps towards the central staircase. There Ned Land and
Conseil were slyly watching some of the ship's crew, who were opening the
hatches, while cries of rage and fearful vociferations resounded outside.
The port lids were pulled down outside. Twenty horrible faces appeared.
But the first native who placed his hand on the stair-rail, struck from
behind by some invisible force, I know not what, fled, uttering the most
fearful cries and making the wildest contortions.
Ten of his companions followed him. They met with the same fate.
Conseil was in ecstasy. Ned Land, carried away by his violent
instincts, rushed on to the staircase. But the moment he seized the rail
with both hands, he, in his turn, was overthrown.
"I am struck by a thunderbolt," cried he, with an oath.
This explained all. It was no rail; but a metallic cable charged with
electricity from the deck communicating with the platform. Whoever touched
it felt a powerful shock- and this shock would have been mortal if Captain
Nemo had discharged into the conductor the whole force of the current. It
might truly be said that between his assailants and himself he had
stretched a network of electricity which none could pass with impunity.
Meanwhile, the exasperated Papuans had beaten a retreat paralysed with
terror. As for us, half laughing, we consoled and rubbed the unfortunate
Ned Land, who swore like one possessed.
But at this moment the Nautilus, raised by the last waves of the tide,
quitted her coral bed exactly at the fortieth minute fixed by the Captain.
Her screw swept the waters slowly and majestically. Her speed increased
gradually, and, sailing on the surface of the ocean, she quitted safe and
sound the dangerous passes of the Straits of Torres.
The following day 10th January, the Nautilus continued her course
between two seas, but with such remarkable speed that I could not estimate
it at less than thirty-five miles an hour. The rapidity of her screw was
such that I could neither follow nor count its revolutions. When I
reflected that this marvellous electric agent, after having afforded
motion, heat, and light to the Nautilus, still protected her from outward
attack, and transformed her into an ark of safety which no profane hand
might touch without being thunderstricken, my admiration was unbounded,
and from the structure it extended to the engineer who had called it into
existence.
Our course was directed to the west, and on the 11th of January we
doubled Cape Wessel, situation in 135O long. and 10O S. lat., which forms
the east point of the Gulf of Carpentaria. The reefs were still numerous,
but more equalised, and marked on the chart with extreme precision. The
Nautilus easily avoided the breakers of Money to port and the Victoria
reefs to starboard, placed at 130O long. and on the 10th parallel, which
we strictly followed.
On the 13th of January, Captain Nemo arrived in the Sea of Timor, and
recognised the island of that name in 122O long.
From this point the direction of the Nautilus inclined towards the
south-west. Her head was set for the Indian Ocean. Where would the fancy
of Captain Nemo carry us next? Would he return to the coast of Asia or
would he approach again the shores of Europe? Improbable conjectures both,
to a man who fled from inhabited continents. Then would he descend to the
south? Was he going to double the Cape of Good Hope, then Cape Horn, and
finally go as far as the Antarctic pole? Would he come back at last to the
Pacific, where his Nautilus could sail free and independently? Time would
show.
After having skirted the sands of Cartier, of Hibernia, Seringapatam,
and Scott, last efforts of the solid against the liquid element, on the
14th of January we lost sight of land altogether. The speed of the
Nautilus was considerably abated, and with irregular course she sometimes
swam in the bosom of the waters, sometimes floated on their surface.
During this period of the voyage, Captain Nemo made some interesting
experiments on the varied temperature of the sea, in different beds. Under
ordinary conditions these observations are made by means of rather
complicated instruments, and with somewhat doubtful results, by means of
thermometrical sounding-leads, the glasses often breaking under the
pressure of the water, or an apparatus grounded on the variations of the
resistance of metals to the electric currents. Results so obtained could
not be correctly calculated. On the contrary, Captain Nemo went himself to
test the temperature in the depths of the sea, and his thermometer, placed
in communication with the different sheets of water, gave him the required
degree immediately and accurately.
It was thus that, either by overloading her reservoirs or by descending
obliquely by means of her inclined planes, the Nautilus successively
attained the depth of three, four, five, seven, nine, and ten thousand
yards, and the definite result of this experience was that the sea
preserved an average temperature of four degrees and a half at a depth of
five thousand fathoms under all latitudes.
On the 16th of January, the Nautilus seemed becalmed only a few yards
beneath the surface of the waves. Her electric apparatus remained inactive
and her motionless screw left her to drift at the mercy of the currents. I
supposed that the crew was occupied with interior repairs, rendered
necessary by the violence of the mechanical movements of the machine.
My companions and I then witnessed a curious spectacle. The hatches of
the saloon were open, and, as the beacon light of the Nautilus was not in
action, a dim obscurity reigned in the midst of the waters. I observed the
state of the sea, under these conditions, and the largest fish appeared to
me no more than scarcely defined shadows, when the Nautilus found herself
suddenly transported into full light. I thought at first that the beacon
had been lighted, and was casting its electric radiance into the liquid
mass. I was mistaken, and after a rapid survey perceived my error.
The Nautilus floated in the midst of a phosphorescent bed which, in
this obscurity, became quite dazzling. It was produced by myriads of
luminous animalculae, whose brilliancy was increased as they glided over
the metallic hull of the vessel. I was surprised by lightning in the midst
of these luminous sheets, as though they bad been rivulets of lead melted
in an ardent furnace or metallic masses brought to a white heat, so that,
by force of contrast, certain portions of light appeared to cast a shade
in the midst of the general ignition, from which all shade seemed
banished. No; this was not the calm irradiation of our ordinary lightning.
There was unusual life and vigour: this was truly living light!
In reality, it was an infinite agglomeration of coloured infusoria, of
veritable globules of jelly, provided with a threadlike tentacle, and of
which as many as twenty-five thousand have been counted in less than two
cubic half-inches of water.
During several hours the Nautilus floated in these brilliant waves, and
our admiration increased as we watched the marine monsters disporting
themselves like salamanders. I saw there in the midst of this fire that
burns not the swift and elegant porpoise (the indefatigable clown of the
ocean), and some swordfish ten feet long, those prophetic heralds of the
hurricane whose formidable sword would now and then strike the glass of
the saloon. Then appeared the smaller fish, the balista, the leaping
mackerel, wolf-thorn-tails, and a hundred others which striped the
luminous atmosphere as they swam. This dazzling spectacle was enchanting!
Perhaps some atmospheric condition increased the intensity of this
phenomenon. Perhaps some storm agitated the surface of the waves. But at
this depth of some yards, the Nautilus was unmoved by its fury and reposed
peacefully in still water.
So we progressed, incessantly charmed by some new marvel. The days
passed rapidly away, and I took no account of them. Ned, according to
habit, tried to vary the diet on board. Like snails, we were fixed to our
shells, and I declare it is easy to lead a snail's life.
Thus this life seemed easy and natural, and we thought no longer of the
life we led on land; but something happened to recall us to the
strangeness of our situation.
On the 18th of January, the Nautilus was in 105O long. and 15O S. lat.
The weather was threatening, the sea rough and rolling. There was a strong
east wind. The barometer, which had been going down for some days,
foreboded a coming storm. I went up on to the platform just as the second
lieutenant was taking the measure of the horary angles, and waited,
according to habit till the daily phrase was said. But on this day it was
exchanged for another phrase not less incomprehensible. Almost directly, I
saw Captain Nemo appear with a glass, looking towards the horizon.
For some minutes he was immovable, without taking his eye off the point
of observation. Then he lowered his glass and exchanged a few words with
his lieutenant. The latter seemed to be a victim to some emotion that he
tried in vain to repress. Captain Nemo, having more command over himself,
was cool. He seemed, too, to be making some objections to which the
lieutenant replied by formal assurances. At least I concluded so by the
difference of their tones and gestures. For myself, I had looked carefully
in the direction indicated without seeing anything. The sky and water were
lost in the clear line of the horizon.
However, Captain Nemo walked from one end of the platform to the other,
without looking at me, perhaps without seeing me. His step was firm, but
less regular than usual. He stopped sometimes, crossed his arms, and
observed the sea. What could he be looking for on that immense expanse?
The Nautilus was then some hundreds of miles from the nearest coast.
The lieutenant had taken up the glass and examined the horizon
steadfastly, going and coming, stamping his foot and showing more nervous
agitation than his superior officer. Besides, this mystery must
necessarily be solved, and before long; for, upon an order from Captain
Nemo, the engine, increasing its propelling power, made the screw turn
more rapidly.
Just then the lieutenant drew the Captain's attention again. The latter
stopped walking and directed his glass towards the place indicated. He
looked long. I felt very much puzzled, and descended to the drawing-room,
and took out an excellent telescope that I generally used. Then, leaning
on the cage of the watch-light that jutted out from the front of the
platform, set myself to look over all the line of the sky and sea.
But my eye was no sooner applied to the glass than it was quickly
snatched out of my hands.
I turned round. Captain Nemo was before me, but I did not know him. His
face was transfigured. His eyes flashed sullenly; his teeth were set; his
stiff body, clenched fists, and head shrunk between his shoulders,
betrayed the violent agitation that pervaded his whole frame. He did not
move. My glass, fallen from his hands, had rolled at his feet.
Had I unwittingly provoked this fit of anger? Did this incomprehensible
person imagine that I had discovered some forbidden secret? No; I was not
the object of this hatred, for he was not looking at me; his eye was
steadily fixed upon the impenetrable point of the horizon. At last Captain
Nemo recovered himself. His agitation subsided. He addressed some words in
a foreign language to his lieutenant, then turned to me. "M. Aronnax," he
said, in rather an imperious tone, "I require you to keep one of the
conditions that bind you to me."
"What is it, Captain?"
"You must be confined, with your companions, until I think fit to
release you."
"You are the master," I replied, looking steadily at him. "But may I
ask you one question?"
"None, sir."
There was no resisting this imperious command, it would have been
useless. I went down to the cabin occupied by Ned Land and Conseil, and
told them the Captain's determination. You may judge how this
communication was received by the Canadian.
But there was not time for altercation. Four of the crew waited at the
door, and conducted us to that cell where we had passed our first night on
board the Nautilus.
Ned Land would have remonstrated, but the door was shut upon him.
"Will master tell me what this means?" asked Conseil.
I told my companions what had passed. They were as much astonished as
I, and equally at a loss how to account for it.
Meanwhile, I was absorbed in my own reflections, and could think of
nothing but the strange fear depicted in the Captain's countenance. I was
utterly at a loss to account for it, when my cogitations were disturbed by
these words from Ned Land:
"Hallo! breakfast is ready."
And indeed the table was laid. Evidently Captain Nemo had given this
order at the same time that he had hastened the speed of the Nautilus.
"Will master permit me to make a recommendation?" asked Conseil.
"Yes, my boy."
"Well, it is that master breakfasts. It is prudent, for we do not know
what may happen."
"You are right, Conseil."
"Unfortunately," said Ned Land, "they have only given us the ship's
fare."
"Friend Ned," asked Conseil, "what would you have said if the breakfast
had been entirely forgotten?"
This argument cut short the harpooner's recriminations.
We sat down to table. The meal was eaten in silence.
Just then the luminous globe that lighted the cell went out, and left
us in total darkness. Ned Land was soon asleep, and what astonished me was
that Conseil went off into a heavy slumber. I was thinking what could have
caused his irresistible drowsiness, when I felt my brain becoming
stupefied. In spite of my efforts to keep my eyes open, they would close.
A painful suspicion seized me. Evidently soporific substances had been
mixed with the food we had just taken. Imprisonment was not enough to
conceal Captain Nemo's projects from us, sleep was more necessary. I then
heard the panels shut. The undulations of the sea, which caused a slight
rolling motion, ceased. Had the Nautilus quitted the surface of the ocean?
Had it gone back to the motionless bed of water? I tried to resist sleep.
It was impossible. My breathing grew weak. I felt a mortal cold freeze my
stiffened and half-paralysed limbs. My eye lids, like leaden caps, fell
over my eyes. I could not raise them; a morbid sleep, full of
hallucinations, bereft me of my being. Then the visions disappeared, and
left me in complete insensibility.
The next day I woke with my head singularly clear. To my great
surprise, I was in my own room. My companions, no doubt, had been
reinstated in their cabin, without having perceived it any more than I. Of
what had passed during the night they were as ignorant as I was, and to
penetrate this mystery I only reckoned upon the chances of the future.
I then thought of quitting my room. Was I free again or a prisoner?
Quite free. I opened the door, went to the half-deck, went up the central
stairs. The panels, shut the evening before, were open. I went on to the
platform.
Ned Land and Conseil waited there for me. I questioned them; they knew
nothing. Lost in a heavy sleep in which they had been totally unconscious,
they had been astonished at finding themselves in their cabin.
As for the Nautilus, it seemed quiet and mysterious as ever. It floated
on the surface of the waves at a moderate pace. Nothing seemed changed on
board.
The second lieutenant then came on to the platform, and gave the usual
order below.
As for Captain Nemo, he did not appear.
Of the people on board, I only saw the impassive steward, who served me
with his usual dumb regularity.
About two o'clock, I was in the drawing-room, busied in arranging my
notes, when the Captain opened the door and appeared. I bowed. He made a
slight inclination in return, without speaking. I resumed my work, hoping
that he would perhaps give me some explanation of the events of the
preceding night. He made none. I looked at him. He seemed fatigued; his
heavy eyes had not been refreshed by sleep; his face looked very
sorrowful. He walked to and fro, sat down and got up again, took a chance
book, put it down, consulted his instruments without taking his habitual
notes, and seemed restless and uneasy. At last, he came up to me, and
said:
"Are you a doctor, M. Aronnax?"
I so little expected such a question that I stared some time at him
without answering.
"Are you a doctor?" he repeated. "Several of your colleagues have
studied medicine."
"Well," said I, "I am a doctor and resident surgeon to the hospital. I
practised several years before entering the museum."
"Very well, sir."
My answer had evidently satisfied the Captain. But, not knowing what he
would say next, I waited for other questions, reserving my answers
according to circumstances.
"M. Aronnax, will you consent to prescribe for one of my men?" be asked.
"Is he ill?"
"Yes."
"I am ready to follow you."
"Come, then."
I own my heart beat, I do not know why. I saw certain connection
between the illness of one of the crew and the events of the day before;
and this mystery interested me at least as much as the sick man.
Captain Nemo conducted me to the poop of the Nautilus, and took me into
a cabin situated near the sailors' quarters.
There, on a bed, lay a man about forty years of age, with a resolute
expression of countenance, a true type of an Anglo-Saxon.
I leant over him. He was not only ill, he was wounded. His head,
swathed in bandages covered with blood, lay on a pillow. I undid the
bandages, and the wounded man looked at me with his large eyes and gave no
sign of pain as I did it. It was a horrible wound. The skull, shattered by
some deadly weapon, left the brain exposed, which was much injured. Clots
of blood had formed in the bruised and broken mass, in colour like the
dregs of wine.
There was both contusion and suffusion of the brain. His breathing was
slow, and some spasmodic movements of the muscles agitated his face. I
felt his pulse. It was intermittent. The extremities of the body were
growing cold already, and I saw death must inevitably ensue. After
dressing the unfortunate man's wounds, I readjusted the bandages on his
head, and turned to Captain Nemo.
"What caused this wound?" I asked.
"What does it signify?" he replied, evasively. "A shock has broken one
of the levers of the engine, which struck myself. But your opinion as to
his state?"
I hesitated before giving it.
"You may speak," said the Captain. "This man does not understand
French."
I gave a last look at the wounded man.
"He will be dead in two hours."
"Can nothing save him?"
"Nothing."
Captain Nemo's hand contracted, and some tears glistened in his eyes,
which I thought incapable of shedding any.
For some moments I still watched the dying man, whose life ebbed
slowly. His pallor increased under the electric light that was shed over
his death-bed. I looked at his intelligent forehead, furrowed with
premature wrinkles, produced probably by misfortune and sorrow. I tried to
learn the secret of his life from the last words that escaped his lips.
"You can go now, M. Aronnax," said the Captain.
I left him in the dying man's cabin, and returned to my room much
affected by this scene. During the whole day, I was haunted by
uncomfortable suspicions, and at night I slept badly, and between my
broken dreams I fancied I heard distant sighs like the notes of a funeral
psalm. Were they the prayers of the dead, murmured in that language that I
could not understand?
The next morning I went on to the bridge. Captain Nemo was there before
me. As soon as he perceived me he came to me.
"Professor, will it be convenient to you to make a submarine excursion
to-day?"
"With my companions?" I asked.
"If they like."
"We obey your orders, Captain."
"Will you be so good then as to put on your cork jackets?"
It was not a question of dead or dying. I rejoined Ned Land and
Conseil, and told them of Captain Nemo's proposition. Conseil hastened to
accept it, and this time the Canadian seemed quite willing to follow our
example.
It was eight o'clock in the morning. At half-past eight we were
equipped for this new excursion, and provided with two contrivances for
light and breathing. The double door was open; and, accompanied by Captain
Nemo, who was followed by a dozen of the crew, we set foot, at a depth of
about thirty feet, on the solid bottom on which the Nautilus rested.
A slight declivity ended in an uneven bottom, at fifteen fathoms depth.
This bottom differed entirely from the one I had visited on my first
excursion under the waters of the Pacific Ocean. Here, there was no fine
sand, no submarine prairies, no sea-forest. I immediately recognised that
marvellous region in which, on that day, the Captain did the honours to
us. It was the coral kingdom.
The light produced a thousand charming varieties, playing in the midst
of the branches that were so vividly coloured. I seemed to see the
membraneous and cylindrical tubes tremble beneath the undulation of the
waters. I was tempted to gather their fresh petals, ornamented with
delicate tentacles, some just blown, the others budding, while a small
fish, swimming swiftly, touched them slightly, like flights of birds. But
if my hand approached these living flowers, these animated, sensitive
plants, the whole colony took alarm. The white petals re-entered their red
cases, the flowers faded as I looked, and the bush changed into a block of
stony knobs.
Chance had thrown me just by the most precious specimens of the
zoophyte. This coral was more valuable than that found in the
Mediterranean, on the coasts of France, Italy and Barbary. Its tints
justified the poetical names of "Flower of Blood," and "Froth of Blood,"
that trade has given to its most beautiful productions. Coral is sold for
L20 per ounce; and in this place the watery beds would make the fortunes
of a company of coral-divers. This precious matter, often confused with
other polypi, formed then the inextricable plots called "macciota," and on
which I noticed several beautiful specimens of pink coral.
{opening sentence missing} Real petrified thickets, long joints of
fantastic architecture, were disclosed before us. Captain Nemo placed
himself under a dark gallery, where by a slight declivity we reached a
depth of a hundred yards. The light from our lamps produced sometimes
magical effects, following the rough outlines of the natural arches and
pendants disposed like lustres, that were tipped with points of fire.
At last, after walking two hours, we had attained a depth of about
three hundred yards, that is to say, the extreme limit on which coral
begins to form. But there was no isolated bush, nor modest brushwood, at
the bottom of lofty trees. It was an immense forest of large mineral
vegetations, enormous petrified trees, united by garlands of elegant
sea-bindweed, all adorned with clouds and reflections. We passed freely
under their high branches, lost in the shade of the waves.
Captain Nemo had stopped. I and my companions halted, and, turning
round, I saw his men were forming a semi-circle round their chief.
Watching attentively, I observed that four of them carried on their
shoulders an object of an oblong shape.
We occupied, in this place, the centre of a vast glade surrounded by
the lofty foliage of the submarine forest. Our lamps threw over this place
a sort of clear twilight that singularly elongated the shadows on the
ground. At the end of the glade the darkness increased, and was only
relieved by little sparks reflected by the points of coral.
Ned Land and Conseil were near me. We watched, and I thought I was
going to witness a strange scene. On observing the ground, I saw that it
was raised in certain places by slight excrescences encrusted with limy
deposits, and disposed with a regularity that betrayed the hand of man.
In the midst of the glade, on a pedestal of rocks roughly piled up,
stood a cross of coral that extended its long arms that one might have
thought were made of petrified blood. Upon a sign from Captain Nemo one of
the men advanced; and at some feet from the cross he began to dig a hole
with a pickaxe that he took from his belt. I understood all! This glade
was a cemetery, this hole a tomb, this oblong object the body of the man
who had died in the night! The Captain and his men had come to bury their
companion in this general resting-place, at the bottom of this
inaccessible ocean!
The grave was being dug slowly; the fish fled on all sides while their
retreat was being thus disturbed; I heard the strokes of the pickaxe,
which sparkled when it hit upon some flint lost at the bottom of the
waters. The hole was soon large and deep enough to receive the body. Then
the bearers approached; the body, enveloped in a tissue of white linen,
was lowered into the damp grave. Captain Nemo, with his arms crossed on
his breast, and all the friends of him who had loved them, knelt in
prayer.
The grave was then filled in with the rubbish taken from the ground,
which formed a slight mound. When this was done, Captain Nemo and his men
rose; then, approaching the grave, they knelt again, and all extended
their hands in sign of a last adieu. Then the funeral procession returned
to the Nautilus, passing under the arches of the forest, in the midst of
thickets, along the coral bushes, and still on the ascent. At last the
light of the ship appeared, and its luminous track guided us to the
Nautilus. At one o'clock we had returned.
As soon as I had changed my clothes I went up on to the platform, and,
a prey to conflicting emotions, I sat down near the binnacle. Captain Nemo
joined me. I rose and said to him:
"So, as I said he would, this man died in the night?"
"Yes, M. Aronnax."
"And he rests now, near his companions, in the coral cemetery?"
"Yes, forgotten by all else, but not by us. We dug the grave, and the
polypi undertake to seal our dead for eternity." And, burying his face
quickly in his hands, he tried in vain to suppress a sob. Then he added:
"Our peaceful cemetery is there, some hundred feet below the surface of