counter-current by which the Nautilus profited. It advanced rapidly by the
narrow pass. For one instant I caught a glimpse of the beautiful ruins of
the temple of Hercules, buried in the ground, according to Pliny, and with
the low island which supports it; and a few minutes later we were floating
on the Atlantic.
The Atlantic! a vast sheet of water whose superficial area covers
twenty-five millions of square miles, the length of which is nine thousand
miles, with a mean breadth of two thousand seven hundred- an ocean whose
parallel winding shores embrace an immense circumference, watered by the
largest rivers of the world, the St. Lawrence, the Mississippi, the
Amazon, the Plata, the Orinoco, the Niger, the Senegal, the Elbe, the
Loire, and the Rhine, which carry water from the most civilised, as well
as from the most savage, countries! Magnificent field of water,
incessantly ploughed by vessels of every nation, sheltered by the flags of
every nation, and which terminates in those two terrible points so dreaded
by mariners, Cape Horn and the Cape of Tempests.
The Nautilus was piercing the water with its sharp spur, after having
accomplished nearly ten thousand leagues in three months and a half, a
distance greater than the great circle of the earth. Where were we going
now, and what was reserved for the future? The Nautilus, leaving the
Straits of Gibraltar, had gone far out. It returned to the surface of the
waves, and our daily walks on the platform were restored to us.
I mounted at once, accompanied by Ned Land and Conseil. At a distance
of about twelve miles, Cape St. Vincent was dimly to be seen, forming the
south-western point of the Spanish peninsula. A strong southerly gale was
blowing. The sea was swollen and billowy; it made the Nautilus rock
violently. It was almost impossible to keep one's foot on the platform,
which the heavy rolls of the sea beat over every instant. So we descended
after inhaling some mouthfuls of fresh air.
I returned to my room, Conseil to his cabin; but the Canadian, with a
preoccupied air, followed me. Our rapid passage across the Mediterranean
had not allowed him to put his project into execution, and he could not
help showing his disappointment. When the door of my room was shut, he sat
down and looked at me silently.
"Friend Ned," said I, "I understand you; but you cannot reproach
yourself. To have attempted to leave the Nautilus under the circumstances
would have been folly."
Ned Land did not answer; his compressed lips and frowning brow showed
with him the violent possession this fixed idea had taken of his mind.
"Let us see," I continued; "we need not despair yet. We are going up
the coast of Portugal again; France and England are not far off, where we
can easily find refuge. Now if the Nautilus, on leaving the Straits of
Gibraltar, had gone to the south, if it had carried us towards regions
where there were no continents, I should share your uneasiness. But we
know now that Captain Nemo does not fly from civilised seas, and in some
days I think you can act with security."
Ned Land still looked at me fixedly; at length his fixed lips parted,
and he said, "It is for to-night."
I drew myself up suddenly. I was, I admit, little prepared for this
communication. I wanted to answer the Canadian, but words would not come.
"We agreed to wait for an opportunity," continued Ned Land, "and the
opportunity has arrived. This night we shall be but a few miles from the
Spanish coast. It is cloudy. The wind blows freely. I have your word, M.
Aronnax, and I rely upon you."
As I was silent, the Canadian approached me.
"To-night, at nine o'clock," said he. "I have warned Conseil. At that
moment Captain Nemo will be shut up in his room, probably in bed. Neither
the engineers nor the ship's crew can see us. Conseil and I will gain the
central staircase, and you, M. Aronnax, will remain in the library, two
steps from us, waiting my signal. The oars, the mast, and the sail are in
the canoe. I have even succeeded in getting some provisions. I have
procured an English wrench, to unfasten the bolts which attach it to the
shell of the Nautilus. So all is ready, till to-night."
"The sea is bad."
"That I allow," replied the Canadian; "but we must risk that. Liberty
is worth paying for; besides, the boat is strong, and a few miles with a
fair wind to carry us is no great thing. Who knows but by to-morrow we may
be a hundred leagues away? Let circumstances only favour us, and by ten or
eleven o'clock we shall have landed on some spot of terra firma, alive or
dead. But adieu now till to-night."
With these words the Canadian withdrew, leaving me almost dumb. I had
imagined that, the chance gone, I should have time to reflect and discuss
the matter. My obstinate companion had given me no time; and, after all,
what could I have said to him? Ned Land was perfectly right. There was
almost the opportunity to profit by. Could I retract my word, and take
upon myself the responsibility of compromising the future of my
companions? To-morrow Captain Nemo might take us far from all land.
At that moment a rather loud hissing noise told me that the reservoirs
were filling, and that the Nautilus was sinking under the waves of the
Atlantic.
A sad day I passed, between the desire of regaining my liberty of
action and of abandoning the wonderful Nautilus, and leaving my submarine
studies incomplete.
What dreadful hours I passed thus! Sometimes seeing myself and
companions safely landed, sometimes wishing, in spite of my reason, that
some unforeseen circumstance, would prevent the realisation of Ned Land's
project.
Twice I went to the saloon. I wished to consult the compass. I wished
to see if the direction the Nautilus was taking was bringing us nearer or
taking us farther from the coast. But no; the Nautilus kept in Portuguese
waters.
I must therefore take my part and prepare for flight. My luggage was
not heavy; my notes, nothing more.
As to Captain Nemo, I asked myself what he would think of our escape;
what trouble, what wrong it might cause him and what he might do in case
of its discovery or failure. Certainly I had no cause to complain of him;
on the contrary, never was hospitality freer than his. In leaving him I
could not be taxed with ingratitude. No oath bound us to him. It was on
the strength of circumstances he relied, and not upon our word, to fix us
for ever.
I had not seen the Captain since our visit to the Island of Santorin.
Would chance bring me to his presence before our departure? I wished it,
and I feared it at the same time. I listened if I could hear him walking
the room contiguous to mine. No sound reached my ear. I felt an unbearable
uneasiness. This day of waiting seemed eternal. Hours struck too slowly to
keep pace with my impatience.
My dinner was served in my room as usual. I ate but little; I was too
preoccupied. I left the table at seven o'clock. A hundred and twenty
minutes (I counted them) still separated me from the moment in which I was
to join Ned Land. My agitation redoubled. My pulse beat violently. I could
not remain quiet. I went and came, hoping to calm my troubled spirit by
constant movement. The idea of failure in our bold enterprise was the
least painful of my anxieties; but the thought of seeing our project
discovered before leaving the Nautilus, of being brought before Captain
Nemo, irritated, or (what was worse) saddened, at my desertion, made my
heart beat.
I wanted to see the saloon for the last time. I descended the stairs
and arrived in the museum, where I had passed so many useful and agreeable
hours. I looked at all its riches, all its treasures, like a man on the
eve of an eternal exile, who was leaving never to return.
These wonders of Nature, these masterpieces of art, amongst which for
so many days my life had been concentrated, I was going to abandon them
for ever! I should like to have taken a last look through the windows of
the saloon into the waters of the Atlantic: but the panels were
hermetically closed, and a cloak of steel separated me from that ocean
which I had not yet explored.
In passing through the saloon, I came near the door let into the angle
which opened into the Captain's room. To my great surprise, this door was
ajar. I drew back involuntarily. If Captain Nemo should be in his room, he
could see me. But, hearing no sound, I drew nearer. The room was deserted.
I pushed open the door and took some steps forward. Still the same
monklike severity of aspect.
Suddenly the clock struck eight. The first beat of the hammer on the
bell awoke me from my dreams. I trembled as if an invisible eye had
plunged into my most secret thoughts, and I hurried from the room.
There my eye fell upon the compass. Our course was still north. The log
indicated moderate speed, the manometer a depth of about sixty feet.
I returned to my room, clothed myself warmly-sea boots, an otterskin
cap, a great coat of byssus, lined with sealskin; I was ready, I was
waiting. The vibration of the screw alone broke the deep silence which
reigned on board. I listened attentively. Would no loud voice suddenly
inform me that Ned Land had been surprised in his projected flight. A
mortal dread hung over me, and I vainly tried to regain my accustomed
coolness.
At a few minutes to nine, I put my ear to the Captain's door. No noise.
I left my room and returned to the saloon, which was half in obscurity,
but deserted.
I opened the door communicating with the library. The same insufficient
light, the same solitude. I placed myself near the door leading to the
central staircase, and there waited for Ned Land's signal.
At that moment the trembling of the screw sensibly diminished, then it
stopped entirely. The silence was now only disturbed by the beatings of my
own heart. Suddenly a slight shock was felt; and I knew that the Nautilus
had stopped at the bottom of the ocean. My uneasiness increased. The
Canadian's signal did not come. I felt inclined to join Ned Land and beg
of him to put off his attempt. I felt that we were not sailing under our
usual conditions.
At this moment the door of the large saloon opened, and Captain Nemo
appeared. He saw me, and without further preamble began in an amiable tone
of voice:
"Ah, sir! I have been looking for you. Do you know the history of
Spain?"
Now, one might know the history of one's own country by heart; but in
the condition I was at the time, with troubled mind and head quite lost, I
could not have said a word of it.
"Well," continued Captain Nemo, "you heard my question! Do you know the
history of Spain?"
"Very slightly," I answered.
"Well, here are learned men having to learn," said the Captain. "Come,
sit down, and I will tell you a curious episode in this history. Sir,
listen well," said he; "this history will interest you on one side, for it
will answer a question which doubtless you have not been able to solve."
"I listen, Captain," said I, not knowing what my interlocutor was
driving at, and asking myself if this incident was bearing on our
projected flight.
"Sir, if you have no objection, we will go back to 1702. You cannot be
ignorant that your king, Louis XIV, thinking that the gesture of a
potentate was sufficient to bring the Pyrenees under his yoke, had imposed
the Duke of Anjou, his grandson, on the Spaniards. This prince reigned
more or less badly under the name of Philip V, and had a strong party
against him abroad. Indeed, the preceding year, the royal houses of
Holland, Austria, and England had concluded a treaty of alliance at the
Hague, with the intention of plucking the crown of Spain from the head of
Philip V, and placing it on that of an archduke to whom they prematurely
gave the title of Charles III.
"Spain must resist this coalition; but she was almost entirely
unprovided with either soldiers or sailors. However, money would not fail
them, provided that their galleons, laden with gold and silver from
America, once entered their ports. And about the end of 1702 they expected
a rich convoy which France was escorting with a fleet of twenty-three
vessels, commanded by Admiral Chateau-Renaud, for the ships of the
coalition were already beating the Atlantic. This convoy was to go to
Cadiz, but the Admiral, hearing that an English fleet was cruising in
those waters, resolved to make for a French port.
"The Spanish commanders of the convoy objected to this decision. They
wanted to be taken to a Spanish port, and, if not to Cadiz, into Vigo Bay,
situated on the northwest coast of Spain, and which was not blocked.
"Admiral Chateau-Renaud had the rashness to obey this injunction, and
the galleons entered Vigo Bay.
"Unfortunately, it formed an open road which could not be defended in
any way. They must therefore hasten to unload the galleons before the
arrival of the combined fleet; and time would not have failed them had not
a miserable question of rivalry suddenly arisen.
"You are following the chain of events?" asked Captain Nemo.
"Perfectly," said I, not knowing the end proposed by this historical
lesson.
"I will continue. This is what passed. The merchants of Cadiz had a
privilege by which they had the right of receiving all merchandise coming
from the West Indies. Now, to disembark these ingots at the port of Vigo
was depriving them of their rights. They complained at Madrid, and
obtained the consent of the weak-minded Philip that the convoy, without
discharging its cargo, should remain sequestered in the roads of Vigo
until the enemy had disappeared.
"But whilst coming to this decision, on the 22nd of October, 1702, the
English vessels arrived in Vigo Bay, when Admiral Chateau-Renaud, in spite
of inferior forces, fought bravely. But, seeing that the treasure must
fall into the enemy's hands, he burnt and scuttled every galleon, which
went to the bottom with their immense riches."
Captain Nemo stopped. I admit I could not see yet why this history
should interest me.
"Well?" I asked.
"Well, M. Aronnax," replied Captain Nemo, "we are in that Vigo Bay; and
it rests with yourself whether you will penetrate its mysteries."
The Captain rose, telling me to follow him. I had had time to recover.
I obeyed. The saloon was dark, but through the transparent glass the waves
were sparkling. I looked.
For half a mile around the Nautilus, the waters seemed bathed in
electric light. The sandy bottom was clean and bright. Some of the ship's
crew in their diving-dresses were clearing away half-rotten barrels and
empty cases from the midst of the blackened wrecks. From these cases and
from these barrels escaped ingots of gold and silver, cascades of piastres
and jewels. The sand was heaped up with them. Laden with their precious
booty, the men returned to the Nautilus, disposed of their burden, and
went back to this inexhaustible fishery of gold and silver.
I understood now. This was the scene of the battle of the 22nd of
October, 1702. Here on this very spot the galleons laden for the Spanish
Government had sunk. Here Captain Nemo came, according to his wants, to
pack up those millions with which he burdened the Nautilus. It was for him
and him alone America had given up her precious metals. He was heir
direct, without anyone to share, in those treasures torn from the Incas
and from the conquered of Ferdinand Cortez.
"Did you know, sir," he asked, smiling, "that the sea contained such
riches?"
"I knew," I answered, "that they value money held in suspension in
these waters at two millions."
"Doubtless; but to extract this money the expense would be greater than
the profit. Here, on the contrary, I have but to pick up what man has
lost-and not only in Vigo Bay, but in a thousand other ports where
shipwrecks have happened, and which are marked on my submarine map. Can
you understand now the source of the millions I am worth?"
"I understand, Captain. But allow me to tell you that in exploring Vigo
Bay you have only been beforehand with a rival society."
"And which?"
"A society which has received from the Spanish Government the privilege
of seeking those buried galleons. The shareholders are led on by the
allurement of an enormous bounty, for they value these rich shipwrecks at
five hundred millions."
"Five hundred millions they were," answered Captain Nemo, "but they are
so no longer."
"Just so," said I; "and a warning to those shareholders would be an act
of charity. But who knows if it would be well received? What gamblers
usually regret above all is less the loss of their money than of their
foolish hopes. After all, I pity them less than the thousands of
unfortunates to whom so much riches well-distributed would have been
profitable, whilst for them they will be for ever barren."
I had no sooner expressed this regret than I felt that it must have
wounded Captain Nemo.
"Barren!" he exclaimed, with animation. "Do you think then, sir, that
these riches are lost because I gather them? Is it for myself alone,
according to your idea, that I take the trouble to collect these
treasures? Who told you that I did not make a good use of it? Do you think
I am ignorant that there are suffering beings and oppressed races on this
earth, miserable creatures to console, victims to avenge? Do you not
understand?"
Captain Nemo stopped at these last words, regretting perhaps that he
had spoken so much. But I had guessed that, whatever the motive which had
forced him to seek independence under the sea, it had left him still a
man, that his heart still beat for the sufferings of humanity, and that
his immense charity was for oppressed races as well as individuals. And I
then understood for whom those millions were destined which were forwarded
by Captain Nemo when the Nautilus was cruising in the waters of Crete.
The next morning, the 19th of February, I saw the Canadian enter my
room. I expected this visit. He looked very disappointed.
"Well, sir?" said he.
"Well, Ned, fortune was against us yesterday."
"Yes; that Captain must needs stop exactly at the hour we intended
leaving his vessel."
"Yes, Ned, he had business at his bankers."
"His bankers!"
"Or rather his banking-house; by that I mean the ocean, where his
riches are safer than in the chests of the State."
I then related to the Canadian the incidents of the preceding night,
hoping to bring him back to the idea of not abandoning the Captain; but my
recital had no other result than an energetically expressed regret from
Ned that he had not been able to take a walk on the battlefield of Vigo on
his own account.
"However," said he, "all is not ended. It is only a blow of the harpoon
lost. Another time we must succeed; and to-night, if necessary-"
"In what direction is the Nautilus going?" I asked.
"I do not know," replied Ned.
"Well, at noon we shall see the point."
The Canadian returned to Conseil. As soon as I was dressed, I went into
the saloon. The compass was not reassuring. The course of the Nautilus was
S.S.W. We were turning our backs on Europe.
I waited with some impatience till the ship's place was pricked on the
chart. At about half-past eleven the reservoirs were emptied, and our
vessel rose to the surface of the ocean. I rushed towards the platform.
Ned Land had preceded me. No more land in sight. Nothing but an immense
sea. Some sails on the horizon, doubtless those going to San Roque in
search of favourable winds for doubling the Cape of Good Hope. The weather
was cloudy. A gale of wind was preparing. Ned raved, and tried to pierce
the cloudy horizon. He still hoped that behind all that fog stretched the
land he so longed for.
At noon the sun showed itself for an instant. The second profited by
this brightness to take its height. Then, the sea becoming more billowy,
we descended, and the panel closed.
An hour after, upon consulting the chart, I saw the position of the
Nautilus was marked at 16O 17' long., and 33O 22' lat., at 150 leagues
from the nearest coast. There was no means of flight, and I leave you to
imagine the rage of the Canadian when I informed him of our situation.
For myself, I was not particularly sorry. I felt lightened of the load
which had oppressed me, and was able to return with some degree of
calmness to my accustomed work.
That night, about eleven o'clock, I received a most unexpected visit
from Captain Nemo. He asked me very graciously if I felt fatigued from my
watch of the preceding night. I answered in the negative.
"Then, M. Aronnax, I propose a curious excursion."
"Propose, Captain?"
"You have hitherto only visited the submarine depths by daylight, under
the brightness of the sun. Would it suit you to see them in the darkness
of the night?"
"Most willingly."
"I warn you, the way will be tiring. We shall have far to walk, and
must climb a mountain. The roads are not well kept."
"What you say, Captain, only heightens my curiosity; I am ready to
follow you."
"Come then, sir, we will put on our diving-dresses."
Arrived at the robing-room, I saw that neither of my companions nor any
of the ship's crew were to follow us on this excursion. Captain Nemo had
not even proposed my taking with me either Ned or Conseil.
In a few moments we had put on our diving-dresses; they placed on our
backs the reservoirs, abundantly filled with air, but no electric lamps
were prepared. I called the Captain's attention to the fact.
"They will be useless," he replied.
I thought I had not heard aright, but I could not repeat my
observation, for the Captain's head had already disappeared in its metal
case. I finished harnessing myself. I felt them put an iron-pointed stick
into my hand, and some minutes later, after going through the usual form,
we set foot on the bottom of the Atlantic at a depth of 150 fathoms.
Midnight was near. The waters were profoundly dark, but Captain Nemo
pointed out in the distance a reddish spot, a sort of large light shining
brilliantly about two miles from the Nautilus. What this fire might be,
what could feed it, why and how it lit up the liquid mass, I could not
say. In any case, it did light our way, vaguely, it is true, but I soon
accustomed myself to the peculiar darkness, and I understood, under such
circumstances, the uselessness of the Ruhmkorff apparatus.
As we advanced, I heard a kind of pattering above my head. The noise
redoubling, sometimes producing a continual shower, I soon understood the
cause. It was rain falling violently, and crisping the surface of the
waves. Instinctively the thought flashed across my mind that I should be
wet through! By the water! in the midst of the water! I could not help
laughing at the odd idea. But, indeed, in the thick diving-dress, the
liquid element is no longer felt, and one only seems to be in an
atmosphere somewhat denser than the terrestrial atmosphere. Nothing more.
After half an hour's walk the soil became stony. Medusae, microscopic
crustacea, and pennatules lit it slightly with their phosphorescent gleam.
I caught a glimpse of pieces of stone covered with millions of zoophytes
and masses of sea weed. My feet often slipped upon this sticky carpet of
sea weed, and without my iron-tipped stick I should have fallen more than
once. In turning round, I could still see the whitish lantern of the
Nautilus beginning to pale in the distance.
But the rosy light which guided us increased and lit up the horizon.
The presence of this fire under water puzzled me in the highest degree.
Was I going towards a natural phenomenon as yet unknown to the savants of
the earth? Or even (for this thought crossed my brain) had the hand of man
aught to do with this conflagration? Had he fanned this flame? Was I to
meet in these depths companions and friends of Captain Nemo whom he was
going to visit, and who, like him, led this strange existence? Should I
find down there a whole colony of exiles who, weary of the miseries of
this earth, had sought and found independence in the deep ocean? All these
foolish and unreasonable ideas pursued me. And in this condition of mind,
over-excited by the succession of wonders continually passing before my
eyes, I should not have been surprised to meet at the bottom of the sea
one of those submarine towns of which Captain Nemo dreamed.
Our road grew lighter and lighter. The white glimmer came in rays from
the summit of a mountain about 800 feet high. But what I saw was simply a
reflection, developed by the clearness of the waters. The source of this
inexplicable light was a fire on the opposite side of the mountain.
In the midst of this stony maze furrowing the bottom of the Atlantic,
Captain Nemo advanced without hesitation. He knew this dreary road.
Doubtless he had often travelled over it, and could not lose himself. I
followed him with unshaken confidence. He seemed to me like a genie of the
sea; and, as he walked before me, I could not help admiring his stature,
which was outlined in black on the luminous horizon.
It was one in the morning when we arrived at the first slopes of the
mountain; but to gain access to them we must venture through the difficult
paths of a vast copse.
Yes; a copse of dead trees, without leaves, without sap, trees
petrified by the action of the water and here and there overtopped by
gigantic pines. It was like a coal-pit still standing, holding by the
roots to the broken soil, and whose branches, like fine black paper
cuttings, showed distinctly on the watery ceiling. Picture to yourself a
forest in the Hartz hanging on to the sides of the mountain, but a forest
swallowed up. The paths were encumbered with seaweed and fucus, between
which grovelled a whole world of crustacea. I went along, climbing the
rocks, striding over extended trunks, breaking the sea bind-weed which
hung from one tree to the other; and frightening the fishes, which flew
from branch to branch. Pressing onward, I felt no fatigue. I followed my
guide, who was never tired. What a spectacle! How can I express it? how
paint the aspect of those woods and rocks in this medium-their under parts
dark and wild, the upper coloured with red tints, by that light which the
reflecting powers of the waters doubled? We climbed rocks which fell
directly after with gigantic bounds and the low growling of an avalanche.
To right and left ran long, dark galleries, where sight was lost. Here
opened vast glades which the hand of man seemed to have worked; and I
sometimes asked myself if some inhabitant of these submarine regions would
not suddenly appear to me.
But Captain Nemo was still mounting. I could not stay behind. I
followed boldly. My stick gave me good help. A false step would have been
dangerous on the narrow passes sloping down to the sides of the gulfs; but
I walked with firm step, without feeling any giddiness. Now I jumped a
crevice, the depth of which would have made me hesitate had it been among
the glaciers on the land; now I ventured on the unsteady trunk of a tree
thrown across from one abyss to the other, without looking under my feet,
having only eyes to admire the wild sites of this region.
There, monumental rocks, leaning on their regularly-cut bases, seemed
to defy all laws of equilibrium. From between their stony knees trees
sprang, like a jet under heavy pressure, and upheld others which upheld
them. Natural towers, large scarps, cut perpendicularly, like a "curtain,"
inclined at an angle which the laws of gravitation could never have
tolerated in terrestrial regions.
Two hours after quitting the Nautilus we had crossed the line of trees,
and a hundred feet above our heads rose the top of the mountain, which
cast a shadow on the brilliant irradiation of the opposite slope. Some
petrified shrubs ran fantastically here and there. Fishes got up under our
feet like birds in the long grass. The massive rocks were rent with
impenetrable fractures, deep grottos, and unfathomable holes, at the
bottom of which formidable creatures might be heard moving. My blood
curdled when I saw enormous antennae blocking my road, or some frightful
claw closing with a noise in the shadow of some cavity. Millions of
luminous spots shone brightly in the midst of the darkness. They were the
eyes of giant crustacea crouched in their holes; giant lobsters setting
themselves up like halberdiers, and moving their claws with the clicking
sound of pincers; titanic crabs, pointed like a gun on its carriage; and
frightful-looking poulps, interweaving their tentacles like a living nest
of serpents.
We had now arrived on the first platform, where other surprises awaited
me. Before us lay some picturesque ruins, which betrayed the hand of man
and not that of the Creator. There were vast heaps of stone, amongst which
might be traced the vague and shadowy forms of castles and temples,
clothed with a world of blossoming zoophytes, and over which, instead of
ivy, sea-weed and fucus threw a thick vegetable mantle. But what was this
portion of the globe which had been swallowed by cataclysms? Who had
placed those rocks and stones like cromlechs of prehistoric times? Where
was I? Whither had Captain Nemo's fancy hurried me?
I would fain have asked him; not being able to, I stopped him- I seized
his arm. But, shaking his head, and pointing to the highest point of the
mountain, he seemed to say:
"Come, come along; come higher!"
I followed, and in a few minutes I had climbed to the top, which for a
circle of ten yards commanded the whole mass of rock.
I looked down the side we had just climbed. The mountain did not rise
more than seven or eight hundred feet above the level of the plain; but on
the opposite side it commanded from twice that height the depths of this
part of the Atlantic. My eyes ranged far over a large space lit by a
violent fulguration. In fact, the mountain was a volcano.
At fifty feet above the peak, in the midst of a rain of stones and
scoriae, a large crater was vomiting forth torrents of lava which fell in
a cascade of fire into the bosom of the liquid mass. Thus situated, this
volcano lit the lower plain like an immense torch, even to the extreme
limits of the horizon. I said that the submarine crater threw up lava, but
no flames. Flames require the oxygen of the air to feed upon and cannot be
developed under water; but streams of lava, having in themselves the
principles of their incandescence, can attain a white heat, fight
vigorously against the liquid element, and turn it to vapour by contact.
Rapid currents bearing all these gases in diffusion and torrents of
lava slid to the bottom of the mountain like an eruption of Vesuvius on
another Terra del Greco.
There indeed under my eyes, ruined, destroyed, lay a town- its roofs
open to the sky, its temples fallen, its arches dislocated, its columns
lying on the ground, from which one would still recognise the massive
character of Tuscan architecture. Further on, some remains of a gigantic
aqueduct; here the high base of an Acropolis, with the floating outline of
a Parthenon; there traces of a quay, as if an ancient port had formerly
abutted on the borders of the ocean, and disappeared with its merchant
vessels and its war-galleys. Farther on again, long lines of sunken walls
and broad, deserted streets- a perfect Pompeii escaped beneath the waters.
Such was the sight that Captain Nemo brought before my eyes!
Where was I? Where was I? I must know at any cost. I tried to speak,
but Captain Nemo stopped me by a gesture, and, picking up a piece of
chalk-stone, advanced to a rock of black basalt, and traced the one word:
ATLANTIS
What a light shot through my mind! Atlantis! the Atlantis of Plato,
that continent denied by Origen and Humbolt, who placed its disappearance
amongst the legendary tales. I had it there now before my eyes, bearing
upon it the unexceptionable testimony of its catastrophe. The region thus
engulfed was beyond Europe, Asia, and Lybia, beyond the columns of
Hercules, where those powerful people, the Atlantides, lived, against whom
the first wars of ancient Greeks were waged.
Thus, led by the strangest destiny, I was treading under foot the
mountains of this continent, touching with my hand those ruins a thousand
generations old and contemporary with the geological epochs. I was walking
on the very spot where the contemporaries of the first man had walked.
Whilst I was trying to fix in my mind every detail of this grand
landscape, Captain Nemo remained motionless, as if petrified in mute
ecstasy, leaning on a mossy stone. Was he dreaming of those generations
long since disappeared? Was he asking them the secret of human destiny?
Was it here this strange man came to steep himself in historical
recollections, and live again this ancient life-he who wanted no modern
one? What would I not have given to know his thoughts, to share them, to
understand them! We remained for an hour at this place, contemplating the
vast plains under the brightness of the lava, which was some times
wonderfully intense. Rapid tremblings ran along the mountain caused by
internal bubblings, deep noise, distinctly transmitted through the liquid
medium were echoed with majestic grandeur. At this moment the moon
appeared through the mass of waters and threw her pale rays on the buried
continent. It was but a gleam, but what an indescribable effect! The
Captain rose, cast one last look on the immense plain, and then bade me
follow him.
We descended the mountain rapidly, and, the mineral forest once passed,
I saw the lantern of the Nautilus shining like a star. The Captain walked
straight to it, and we got on board as the first rays of light whitened
the surface of the ocean.
The next day, the 20th of February, I awoke very late: the fatigues of
the previous night had prolonged my sleep until eleven o'clock. I dressed
quickly, and hastened to find the course the Nautilus was taking. The
instruments showed it to be still toward the south, with a speed of twenty
miles an hour and a depth of fifty fathoms.
The species of fishes here did not differ much from those already
noticed. There were rays of giant size, five yards long, and endowed with
great muscular strength, which enabled them to shoot above the waves;
sharks of many kinds; amongst others, one fifteen feet long, with
triangular sharp teeth, and whose transparency rendered it almost
invisible in the water.
Amongst bony fish Conseil noticed some about three yards long, armed at
the upper jaw with a piercing sword; other bright-coloured creatures,
known in the time of Aristotle by the name of the sea-dragon, which are
dangerous to capture on account of the spikes on their back.
About four o'clock, the soil, generally composed of a thick mud mixed
with petrified wood, changed by degrees, and it became more stony, and
seemed strewn with conglomerate and pieces of basalt, with a sprinkling of
lava. I thought that a mountainous region was succeeding the long plains;
and accordingly, after a few evolutions of the Nautilus, I saw the
southerly horizon blocked by a high wall which seemed to close all exit.
Its summit evidently passed the level of the ocean. It must be a
continent, or at least an island-one of the Canaries, or of the Cape Verde
Islands. The bearings not being yet taken, perhaps designedly, I was
ignorant of our exact position. In any case, such a wall seemed to me to
mark the limits of that Atlantis, of which we had in reality passed over
only the smallest part.
Much longer should I have remained at the window admiring the beauties
of sea and sky, but the panels closed. At this moment the Nautilus arrived
at the side of this high, perpendicular wall. What it would do, I could
not guess. I returned to my room; it no longer moved. I laid myself down
with the full intention of waking after a few hours' sleep; but it was
eight o'clock the next day when I entered the saloon. I looked at the
manometer. It told me that the Nautilus was floating on the surface of the
ocean. Besides, I heard steps on the platform. I went to the panel. It was
open; but, instead of broad daylight, as I expected, I was surrounded by
profound darkness. Where were we? Was I mistaken? Was it still night? No;
not a star was shining and night has not that utter darkness.
I knew not what to think, when a voice near me said:
"Is that you, Professor?"
"Ah! Captain," I answered, "where are we?"
"Underground, sir."
"Underground!" I exclaimed. "And the Nautilus floating still?"
"It always floats."
"But I do not understand."
"Wait a few minutes, our lantern will be lit, and, if you like light
places, you will be satisfied."
I stood on the platform and waited. The darkness was so complete that I
could not even see Captain Nemo; but, looking to the zenith, exactly above
my head, I seemed to catch an undecided gleam, a kind of twilight filling
a circular hole. At this instant the lantern was lit, and its vividness
dispelled the faint light. I closed my dazzled eyes for an instant, and
then looked again. The Nautilus was stationary, floating near a mountain
which formed a sort of quay. The lake, then, supporting it was a lake
imprisoned by a circle of walls, measuring two miles in diameter and six
in circumference. Its level (the manometer showed) could only be the same
as the outside level, for there must necessarily be a communication
between the lake and the sea. The high partitions, leaning forward on
their base, grew into a vaulted roof bearing the shape of an immense
funnel turned upside down, the height being about five or six hundred
yards. At the summit was a circular orifice, by which I had caught the
slight gleam of light, evidently daylight.
"Where are we?" I asked.
"In the very heart of an extinct volcano, the interior of which has
been invaded by the sea, after some great convulsion of the earth. Whilst
you were sleeping, Professor, the Nautilus penetrated to this lagoon by a
natural canal, which opens about ten yards beneath the surface of the
ocean. This is its harbour of refuge, a sure, commodious, and mysterious
one, sheltered from all gales. Show me, if you can, on the coasts of any
of your continents or islands, a road which can give such perfect refuge
from all storms."
"Certainly," I replied, "you are in safety here, Captain Nemo. Who
could reach you in the heart of a volcano? But did I not see an opening at
its summit?"
"Yes; its crater, formerly filled with lava, vapour, and flames, and
which now gives entrance to the life-giving air we breathe."
"But what is this volcanic mountain?"
"It belongs to one of the numerous islands with which this sea is
strewn-to vessels a simple sandbank-to us an immense cavern. Chance led me
to discover it, and chance served me well."
"But of what use is this refuge, Captain? The Nautilus wants no port."
"No, sir; but it wants electricity to make it move, and the wherewithal
to make the electricity-sodium to feed the elements, coal from which to
get the sodium, and a coal-mine to supply the coal. And exactly on this
spot the sea covers entire forests embedded during the geological periods,
now mineralised and transformed into coal; for me they are an
inexhaustible mine."
"Your men follow the trade of miners here, then, Captain?"
"Exactly so. These mines extend under the waves like the mines of
Newcastle. Here, in their diving-dresses, pick axe and shovel in hand, my
men extract the coal, which I do not even ask from the mines of the earth.
When I burn this combustible for the manufacture of sodium, the smoke,
escaping from the crater of the mountain, gives it the appearance of a
still-active volcano."
"And we shall see your companions at work?"
"No; not this time at least; for I am in a hurry to continue our
submarine tour of the earth. So I shall content myself with drawing from
the reserve of sodium I already possess. The time for loading is one day
only, and we continue our voyage. So, if you wish to go over the cavern
and make the round of the lagoon, you must take advantage of to-day, M.
Aronnax."
I thanked the Captain and went to look for my companions, who had not
yet left their cabin. I invited them to follow me without saying where we
were. They mounted the platform. Conseil, who was astonished at nothing,
seemed to look upon it as quite natural that he should wake under a
mountain, after having fallen asleep under the waves. But Ned Land thought
of nothing but finding whether the cavern had any exit. After breakfast,
about ten o'clock, we went down on to the mountain.
"Here we are, once more on land," said Conseil.
"I do not call this land," said the Canadian. "And besides, we are not
on it, but beneath it."
Between the walls of the mountains and the waters of the lake lay a
sandy shore which, at its greatest breadth, measured five hundred feet. On
this soil one might easily make the tour of the lake. But the base of the
high partitions was stony ground, with volcanic locks and enormous
pumice-stones lying in picturesque heaps. All these detached masses,
covered with enamel, polished by the action of the subterraneous fires,
shone resplendent by the light of our electric lantern. The mica dust from
the shore, rising under our feet, flew like a cloud of sparks. The bottom
now rose sensibly, and we soon arrived at long circuitous slopes, or
inclined planes, which took us higher by degrees; but we were obliged to
walk carefully among these conglomerates, bound by no cement, the feet
slipping on the glassy crystal, felspar, and quartz.
The volcanic nature of this enormous excavation was confirmed on all
sides, and I pointed it out to my companions.
"Picture to yourselves," said I, "what this crater must have been when
filled with boiling lava, and when the level of the incandescent liquid
rose to the orifice of the mountain, as though melted on the top of a hot
plate."
"I can picture it perfectly," said Conseil. "But, sir, will you tell me
why the Great Architect has suspended operations, and how it is that the
furnace is replaced by the quiet waters of the lake?"
"Most probably, Conseil, because some convulsion beneath the ocean
produced that very opening which has served as a passage for the Nautilus.
Then the waters of the Atlantic rushed into the interior of the mountain.
There must have been a terrible struggle between the two elements, a
struggle which ended in the victory of Neptune. But many ages have run out
since then, and the submerged volcano is now a peaceable grotto."
"Very well," replied Ned Land; "I accept the explanation, sir; but, in
our own interests, I regret that the opening of which you speak was not
made above the level of the sea."
"But, friend Ned," said Conseil, "if the passage had not been under the
sea, the Nautilus could not have gone through it."
We continued ascending. The steps became more and more perpendicular
and narrow. Deep excavations, which we were obliged to cross, cut them
here and there; sloping masses had to be turned. We slid upon our knees
and crawled along. But Conseil's dexterity and the Canadian's strength
surmounted all obstacles. At a height of about 31 feet the nature of the
ground changed without becoming more practicable. To the conglomerate and
trachyte succeeded black basalt, the first dispread in layers full of
bubbles, the latter forming regular prisms, placed like a colonnade
supporting the spring of the immense vault, an admirable specimen of
natural architecture. Between the blocks of basalt wound long streams of
lava, long since grown cold, encrusted with bituminous rays; and in some
places there were spread large carpets of sulphur. A more powerful light
shone through the upper crater, shedding a vague glimmer over these
volcanic depressions for ever buried in the bosom of this extinguished
mountain. But our upward march was soon stopped at a height of about two
hundred and fifty feet by impassable obstacles. There was a complete
vaulted arch overhanging us, and our ascent was changed to a circular
walk. At the last change vegetable life began to struggle with the
mineral. Some shrubs, and even some trees, grew from the fractures of the
walls. I recognised some euphorbias, with the caustic sugar coming from
narrow pass. For one instant I caught a glimpse of the beautiful ruins of
the temple of Hercules, buried in the ground, according to Pliny, and with
the low island which supports it; and a few minutes later we were floating
on the Atlantic.
The Atlantic! a vast sheet of water whose superficial area covers
twenty-five millions of square miles, the length of which is nine thousand
miles, with a mean breadth of two thousand seven hundred- an ocean whose
parallel winding shores embrace an immense circumference, watered by the
largest rivers of the world, the St. Lawrence, the Mississippi, the
Amazon, the Plata, the Orinoco, the Niger, the Senegal, the Elbe, the
Loire, and the Rhine, which carry water from the most civilised, as well
as from the most savage, countries! Magnificent field of water,
incessantly ploughed by vessels of every nation, sheltered by the flags of
every nation, and which terminates in those two terrible points so dreaded
by mariners, Cape Horn and the Cape of Tempests.
The Nautilus was piercing the water with its sharp spur, after having
accomplished nearly ten thousand leagues in three months and a half, a
distance greater than the great circle of the earth. Where were we going
now, and what was reserved for the future? The Nautilus, leaving the
Straits of Gibraltar, had gone far out. It returned to the surface of the
waves, and our daily walks on the platform were restored to us.
I mounted at once, accompanied by Ned Land and Conseil. At a distance
of about twelve miles, Cape St. Vincent was dimly to be seen, forming the
south-western point of the Spanish peninsula. A strong southerly gale was
blowing. The sea was swollen and billowy; it made the Nautilus rock
violently. It was almost impossible to keep one's foot on the platform,
which the heavy rolls of the sea beat over every instant. So we descended
after inhaling some mouthfuls of fresh air.
I returned to my room, Conseil to his cabin; but the Canadian, with a
preoccupied air, followed me. Our rapid passage across the Mediterranean
had not allowed him to put his project into execution, and he could not
help showing his disappointment. When the door of my room was shut, he sat
down and looked at me silently.
"Friend Ned," said I, "I understand you; but you cannot reproach
yourself. To have attempted to leave the Nautilus under the circumstances
would have been folly."
Ned Land did not answer; his compressed lips and frowning brow showed
with him the violent possession this fixed idea had taken of his mind.
"Let us see," I continued; "we need not despair yet. We are going up
the coast of Portugal again; France and England are not far off, where we
can easily find refuge. Now if the Nautilus, on leaving the Straits of
Gibraltar, had gone to the south, if it had carried us towards regions
where there were no continents, I should share your uneasiness. But we
know now that Captain Nemo does not fly from civilised seas, and in some
days I think you can act with security."
Ned Land still looked at me fixedly; at length his fixed lips parted,
and he said, "It is for to-night."
I drew myself up suddenly. I was, I admit, little prepared for this
communication. I wanted to answer the Canadian, but words would not come.
"We agreed to wait for an opportunity," continued Ned Land, "and the
opportunity has arrived. This night we shall be but a few miles from the
Spanish coast. It is cloudy. The wind blows freely. I have your word, M.
Aronnax, and I rely upon you."
As I was silent, the Canadian approached me.
"To-night, at nine o'clock," said he. "I have warned Conseil. At that
moment Captain Nemo will be shut up in his room, probably in bed. Neither
the engineers nor the ship's crew can see us. Conseil and I will gain the
central staircase, and you, M. Aronnax, will remain in the library, two
steps from us, waiting my signal. The oars, the mast, and the sail are in
the canoe. I have even succeeded in getting some provisions. I have
procured an English wrench, to unfasten the bolts which attach it to the
shell of the Nautilus. So all is ready, till to-night."
"The sea is bad."
"That I allow," replied the Canadian; "but we must risk that. Liberty
is worth paying for; besides, the boat is strong, and a few miles with a
fair wind to carry us is no great thing. Who knows but by to-morrow we may
be a hundred leagues away? Let circumstances only favour us, and by ten or
eleven o'clock we shall have landed on some spot of terra firma, alive or
dead. But adieu now till to-night."
With these words the Canadian withdrew, leaving me almost dumb. I had
imagined that, the chance gone, I should have time to reflect and discuss
the matter. My obstinate companion had given me no time; and, after all,
what could I have said to him? Ned Land was perfectly right. There was
almost the opportunity to profit by. Could I retract my word, and take
upon myself the responsibility of compromising the future of my
companions? To-morrow Captain Nemo might take us far from all land.
At that moment a rather loud hissing noise told me that the reservoirs
were filling, and that the Nautilus was sinking under the waves of the
Atlantic.
A sad day I passed, between the desire of regaining my liberty of
action and of abandoning the wonderful Nautilus, and leaving my submarine
studies incomplete.
What dreadful hours I passed thus! Sometimes seeing myself and
companions safely landed, sometimes wishing, in spite of my reason, that
some unforeseen circumstance, would prevent the realisation of Ned Land's
project.
Twice I went to the saloon. I wished to consult the compass. I wished
to see if the direction the Nautilus was taking was bringing us nearer or
taking us farther from the coast. But no; the Nautilus kept in Portuguese
waters.
I must therefore take my part and prepare for flight. My luggage was
not heavy; my notes, nothing more.
As to Captain Nemo, I asked myself what he would think of our escape;
what trouble, what wrong it might cause him and what he might do in case
of its discovery or failure. Certainly I had no cause to complain of him;
on the contrary, never was hospitality freer than his. In leaving him I
could not be taxed with ingratitude. No oath bound us to him. It was on
the strength of circumstances he relied, and not upon our word, to fix us
for ever.
I had not seen the Captain since our visit to the Island of Santorin.
Would chance bring me to his presence before our departure? I wished it,
and I feared it at the same time. I listened if I could hear him walking
the room contiguous to mine. No sound reached my ear. I felt an unbearable
uneasiness. This day of waiting seemed eternal. Hours struck too slowly to
keep pace with my impatience.
My dinner was served in my room as usual. I ate but little; I was too
preoccupied. I left the table at seven o'clock. A hundred and twenty
minutes (I counted them) still separated me from the moment in which I was
to join Ned Land. My agitation redoubled. My pulse beat violently. I could
not remain quiet. I went and came, hoping to calm my troubled spirit by
constant movement. The idea of failure in our bold enterprise was the
least painful of my anxieties; but the thought of seeing our project
discovered before leaving the Nautilus, of being brought before Captain
Nemo, irritated, or (what was worse) saddened, at my desertion, made my
heart beat.
I wanted to see the saloon for the last time. I descended the stairs
and arrived in the museum, where I had passed so many useful and agreeable
hours. I looked at all its riches, all its treasures, like a man on the
eve of an eternal exile, who was leaving never to return.
These wonders of Nature, these masterpieces of art, amongst which for
so many days my life had been concentrated, I was going to abandon them
for ever! I should like to have taken a last look through the windows of
the saloon into the waters of the Atlantic: but the panels were
hermetically closed, and a cloak of steel separated me from that ocean
which I had not yet explored.
In passing through the saloon, I came near the door let into the angle
which opened into the Captain's room. To my great surprise, this door was
ajar. I drew back involuntarily. If Captain Nemo should be in his room, he
could see me. But, hearing no sound, I drew nearer. The room was deserted.
I pushed open the door and took some steps forward. Still the same
monklike severity of aspect.
Suddenly the clock struck eight. The first beat of the hammer on the
bell awoke me from my dreams. I trembled as if an invisible eye had
plunged into my most secret thoughts, and I hurried from the room.
There my eye fell upon the compass. Our course was still north. The log
indicated moderate speed, the manometer a depth of about sixty feet.
I returned to my room, clothed myself warmly-sea boots, an otterskin
cap, a great coat of byssus, lined with sealskin; I was ready, I was
waiting. The vibration of the screw alone broke the deep silence which
reigned on board. I listened attentively. Would no loud voice suddenly
inform me that Ned Land had been surprised in his projected flight. A
mortal dread hung over me, and I vainly tried to regain my accustomed
coolness.
At a few minutes to nine, I put my ear to the Captain's door. No noise.
I left my room and returned to the saloon, which was half in obscurity,
but deserted.
I opened the door communicating with the library. The same insufficient
light, the same solitude. I placed myself near the door leading to the
central staircase, and there waited for Ned Land's signal.
At that moment the trembling of the screw sensibly diminished, then it
stopped entirely. The silence was now only disturbed by the beatings of my
own heart. Suddenly a slight shock was felt; and I knew that the Nautilus
had stopped at the bottom of the ocean. My uneasiness increased. The
Canadian's signal did not come. I felt inclined to join Ned Land and beg
of him to put off his attempt. I felt that we were not sailing under our
usual conditions.
At this moment the door of the large saloon opened, and Captain Nemo
appeared. He saw me, and without further preamble began in an amiable tone
of voice:
"Ah, sir! I have been looking for you. Do you know the history of
Spain?"
Now, one might know the history of one's own country by heart; but in
the condition I was at the time, with troubled mind and head quite lost, I
could not have said a word of it.
"Well," continued Captain Nemo, "you heard my question! Do you know the
history of Spain?"
"Very slightly," I answered.
"Well, here are learned men having to learn," said the Captain. "Come,
sit down, and I will tell you a curious episode in this history. Sir,
listen well," said he; "this history will interest you on one side, for it
will answer a question which doubtless you have not been able to solve."
"I listen, Captain," said I, not knowing what my interlocutor was
driving at, and asking myself if this incident was bearing on our
projected flight.
"Sir, if you have no objection, we will go back to 1702. You cannot be
ignorant that your king, Louis XIV, thinking that the gesture of a
potentate was sufficient to bring the Pyrenees under his yoke, had imposed
the Duke of Anjou, his grandson, on the Spaniards. This prince reigned
more or less badly under the name of Philip V, and had a strong party
against him abroad. Indeed, the preceding year, the royal houses of
Holland, Austria, and England had concluded a treaty of alliance at the
Hague, with the intention of plucking the crown of Spain from the head of
Philip V, and placing it on that of an archduke to whom they prematurely
gave the title of Charles III.
"Spain must resist this coalition; but she was almost entirely
unprovided with either soldiers or sailors. However, money would not fail
them, provided that their galleons, laden with gold and silver from
America, once entered their ports. And about the end of 1702 they expected
a rich convoy which France was escorting with a fleet of twenty-three
vessels, commanded by Admiral Chateau-Renaud, for the ships of the
coalition were already beating the Atlantic. This convoy was to go to
Cadiz, but the Admiral, hearing that an English fleet was cruising in
those waters, resolved to make for a French port.
"The Spanish commanders of the convoy objected to this decision. They
wanted to be taken to a Spanish port, and, if not to Cadiz, into Vigo Bay,
situated on the northwest coast of Spain, and which was not blocked.
"Admiral Chateau-Renaud had the rashness to obey this injunction, and
the galleons entered Vigo Bay.
"Unfortunately, it formed an open road which could not be defended in
any way. They must therefore hasten to unload the galleons before the
arrival of the combined fleet; and time would not have failed them had not
a miserable question of rivalry suddenly arisen.
"You are following the chain of events?" asked Captain Nemo.
"Perfectly," said I, not knowing the end proposed by this historical
lesson.
"I will continue. This is what passed. The merchants of Cadiz had a
privilege by which they had the right of receiving all merchandise coming
from the West Indies. Now, to disembark these ingots at the port of Vigo
was depriving them of their rights. They complained at Madrid, and
obtained the consent of the weak-minded Philip that the convoy, without
discharging its cargo, should remain sequestered in the roads of Vigo
until the enemy had disappeared.
"But whilst coming to this decision, on the 22nd of October, 1702, the
English vessels arrived in Vigo Bay, when Admiral Chateau-Renaud, in spite
of inferior forces, fought bravely. But, seeing that the treasure must
fall into the enemy's hands, he burnt and scuttled every galleon, which
went to the bottom with their immense riches."
Captain Nemo stopped. I admit I could not see yet why this history
should interest me.
"Well?" I asked.
"Well, M. Aronnax," replied Captain Nemo, "we are in that Vigo Bay; and
it rests with yourself whether you will penetrate its mysteries."
The Captain rose, telling me to follow him. I had had time to recover.
I obeyed. The saloon was dark, but through the transparent glass the waves
were sparkling. I looked.
For half a mile around the Nautilus, the waters seemed bathed in
electric light. The sandy bottom was clean and bright. Some of the ship's
crew in their diving-dresses were clearing away half-rotten barrels and
empty cases from the midst of the blackened wrecks. From these cases and
from these barrels escaped ingots of gold and silver, cascades of piastres
and jewels. The sand was heaped up with them. Laden with their precious
booty, the men returned to the Nautilus, disposed of their burden, and
went back to this inexhaustible fishery of gold and silver.
I understood now. This was the scene of the battle of the 22nd of
October, 1702. Here on this very spot the galleons laden for the Spanish
Government had sunk. Here Captain Nemo came, according to his wants, to
pack up those millions with which he burdened the Nautilus. It was for him
and him alone America had given up her precious metals. He was heir
direct, without anyone to share, in those treasures torn from the Incas
and from the conquered of Ferdinand Cortez.
"Did you know, sir," he asked, smiling, "that the sea contained such
riches?"
"I knew," I answered, "that they value money held in suspension in
these waters at two millions."
"Doubtless; but to extract this money the expense would be greater than
the profit. Here, on the contrary, I have but to pick up what man has
lost-and not only in Vigo Bay, but in a thousand other ports where
shipwrecks have happened, and which are marked on my submarine map. Can
you understand now the source of the millions I am worth?"
"I understand, Captain. But allow me to tell you that in exploring Vigo
Bay you have only been beforehand with a rival society."
"And which?"
"A society which has received from the Spanish Government the privilege
of seeking those buried galleons. The shareholders are led on by the
allurement of an enormous bounty, for they value these rich shipwrecks at
five hundred millions."
"Five hundred millions they were," answered Captain Nemo, "but they are
so no longer."
"Just so," said I; "and a warning to those shareholders would be an act
of charity. But who knows if it would be well received? What gamblers
usually regret above all is less the loss of their money than of their
foolish hopes. After all, I pity them less than the thousands of
unfortunates to whom so much riches well-distributed would have been
profitable, whilst for them they will be for ever barren."
I had no sooner expressed this regret than I felt that it must have
wounded Captain Nemo.
"Barren!" he exclaimed, with animation. "Do you think then, sir, that
these riches are lost because I gather them? Is it for myself alone,
according to your idea, that I take the trouble to collect these
treasures? Who told you that I did not make a good use of it? Do you think
I am ignorant that there are suffering beings and oppressed races on this
earth, miserable creatures to console, victims to avenge? Do you not
understand?"
Captain Nemo stopped at these last words, regretting perhaps that he
had spoken so much. But I had guessed that, whatever the motive which had
forced him to seek independence under the sea, it had left him still a
man, that his heart still beat for the sufferings of humanity, and that
his immense charity was for oppressed races as well as individuals. And I
then understood for whom those millions were destined which were forwarded
by Captain Nemo when the Nautilus was cruising in the waters of Crete.
The next morning, the 19th of February, I saw the Canadian enter my
room. I expected this visit. He looked very disappointed.
"Well, sir?" said he.
"Well, Ned, fortune was against us yesterday."
"Yes; that Captain must needs stop exactly at the hour we intended
leaving his vessel."
"Yes, Ned, he had business at his bankers."
"His bankers!"
"Or rather his banking-house; by that I mean the ocean, where his
riches are safer than in the chests of the State."
I then related to the Canadian the incidents of the preceding night,
hoping to bring him back to the idea of not abandoning the Captain; but my
recital had no other result than an energetically expressed regret from
Ned that he had not been able to take a walk on the battlefield of Vigo on
his own account.
"However," said he, "all is not ended. It is only a blow of the harpoon
lost. Another time we must succeed; and to-night, if necessary-"
"In what direction is the Nautilus going?" I asked.
"I do not know," replied Ned.
"Well, at noon we shall see the point."
The Canadian returned to Conseil. As soon as I was dressed, I went into
the saloon. The compass was not reassuring. The course of the Nautilus was
S.S.W. We were turning our backs on Europe.
I waited with some impatience till the ship's place was pricked on the
chart. At about half-past eleven the reservoirs were emptied, and our
vessel rose to the surface of the ocean. I rushed towards the platform.
Ned Land had preceded me. No more land in sight. Nothing but an immense
sea. Some sails on the horizon, doubtless those going to San Roque in
search of favourable winds for doubling the Cape of Good Hope. The weather
was cloudy. A gale of wind was preparing. Ned raved, and tried to pierce
the cloudy horizon. He still hoped that behind all that fog stretched the
land he so longed for.
At noon the sun showed itself for an instant. The second profited by
this brightness to take its height. Then, the sea becoming more billowy,
we descended, and the panel closed.
An hour after, upon consulting the chart, I saw the position of the
Nautilus was marked at 16O 17' long., and 33O 22' lat., at 150 leagues
from the nearest coast. There was no means of flight, and I leave you to
imagine the rage of the Canadian when I informed him of our situation.
For myself, I was not particularly sorry. I felt lightened of the load
which had oppressed me, and was able to return with some degree of
calmness to my accustomed work.
That night, about eleven o'clock, I received a most unexpected visit
from Captain Nemo. He asked me very graciously if I felt fatigued from my
watch of the preceding night. I answered in the negative.
"Then, M. Aronnax, I propose a curious excursion."
"Propose, Captain?"
"You have hitherto only visited the submarine depths by daylight, under
the brightness of the sun. Would it suit you to see them in the darkness
of the night?"
"Most willingly."
"I warn you, the way will be tiring. We shall have far to walk, and
must climb a mountain. The roads are not well kept."
"What you say, Captain, only heightens my curiosity; I am ready to
follow you."
"Come then, sir, we will put on our diving-dresses."
Arrived at the robing-room, I saw that neither of my companions nor any
of the ship's crew were to follow us on this excursion. Captain Nemo had
not even proposed my taking with me either Ned or Conseil.
In a few moments we had put on our diving-dresses; they placed on our
backs the reservoirs, abundantly filled with air, but no electric lamps
were prepared. I called the Captain's attention to the fact.
"They will be useless," he replied.
I thought I had not heard aright, but I could not repeat my
observation, for the Captain's head had already disappeared in its metal
case. I finished harnessing myself. I felt them put an iron-pointed stick
into my hand, and some minutes later, after going through the usual form,
we set foot on the bottom of the Atlantic at a depth of 150 fathoms.
Midnight was near. The waters were profoundly dark, but Captain Nemo
pointed out in the distance a reddish spot, a sort of large light shining
brilliantly about two miles from the Nautilus. What this fire might be,
what could feed it, why and how it lit up the liquid mass, I could not
say. In any case, it did light our way, vaguely, it is true, but I soon
accustomed myself to the peculiar darkness, and I understood, under such
circumstances, the uselessness of the Ruhmkorff apparatus.
As we advanced, I heard a kind of pattering above my head. The noise
redoubling, sometimes producing a continual shower, I soon understood the
cause. It was rain falling violently, and crisping the surface of the
waves. Instinctively the thought flashed across my mind that I should be
wet through! By the water! in the midst of the water! I could not help
laughing at the odd idea. But, indeed, in the thick diving-dress, the
liquid element is no longer felt, and one only seems to be in an
atmosphere somewhat denser than the terrestrial atmosphere. Nothing more.
After half an hour's walk the soil became stony. Medusae, microscopic
crustacea, and pennatules lit it slightly with their phosphorescent gleam.
I caught a glimpse of pieces of stone covered with millions of zoophytes
and masses of sea weed. My feet often slipped upon this sticky carpet of
sea weed, and without my iron-tipped stick I should have fallen more than
once. In turning round, I could still see the whitish lantern of the
Nautilus beginning to pale in the distance.
But the rosy light which guided us increased and lit up the horizon.
The presence of this fire under water puzzled me in the highest degree.
Was I going towards a natural phenomenon as yet unknown to the savants of
the earth? Or even (for this thought crossed my brain) had the hand of man
aught to do with this conflagration? Had he fanned this flame? Was I to
meet in these depths companions and friends of Captain Nemo whom he was
going to visit, and who, like him, led this strange existence? Should I
find down there a whole colony of exiles who, weary of the miseries of
this earth, had sought and found independence in the deep ocean? All these
foolish and unreasonable ideas pursued me. And in this condition of mind,
over-excited by the succession of wonders continually passing before my
eyes, I should not have been surprised to meet at the bottom of the sea
one of those submarine towns of which Captain Nemo dreamed.
Our road grew lighter and lighter. The white glimmer came in rays from
the summit of a mountain about 800 feet high. But what I saw was simply a
reflection, developed by the clearness of the waters. The source of this
inexplicable light was a fire on the opposite side of the mountain.
In the midst of this stony maze furrowing the bottom of the Atlantic,
Captain Nemo advanced without hesitation. He knew this dreary road.
Doubtless he had often travelled over it, and could not lose himself. I
followed him with unshaken confidence. He seemed to me like a genie of the
sea; and, as he walked before me, I could not help admiring his stature,
which was outlined in black on the luminous horizon.
It was one in the morning when we arrived at the first slopes of the
mountain; but to gain access to them we must venture through the difficult
paths of a vast copse.
Yes; a copse of dead trees, without leaves, without sap, trees
petrified by the action of the water and here and there overtopped by
gigantic pines. It was like a coal-pit still standing, holding by the
roots to the broken soil, and whose branches, like fine black paper
cuttings, showed distinctly on the watery ceiling. Picture to yourself a
forest in the Hartz hanging on to the sides of the mountain, but a forest
swallowed up. The paths were encumbered with seaweed and fucus, between
which grovelled a whole world of crustacea. I went along, climbing the
rocks, striding over extended trunks, breaking the sea bind-weed which
hung from one tree to the other; and frightening the fishes, which flew
from branch to branch. Pressing onward, I felt no fatigue. I followed my
guide, who was never tired. What a spectacle! How can I express it? how
paint the aspect of those woods and rocks in this medium-their under parts
dark and wild, the upper coloured with red tints, by that light which the
reflecting powers of the waters doubled? We climbed rocks which fell
directly after with gigantic bounds and the low growling of an avalanche.
To right and left ran long, dark galleries, where sight was lost. Here
opened vast glades which the hand of man seemed to have worked; and I
sometimes asked myself if some inhabitant of these submarine regions would
not suddenly appear to me.
But Captain Nemo was still mounting. I could not stay behind. I
followed boldly. My stick gave me good help. A false step would have been
dangerous on the narrow passes sloping down to the sides of the gulfs; but
I walked with firm step, without feeling any giddiness. Now I jumped a
crevice, the depth of which would have made me hesitate had it been among
the glaciers on the land; now I ventured on the unsteady trunk of a tree
thrown across from one abyss to the other, without looking under my feet,
having only eyes to admire the wild sites of this region.
There, monumental rocks, leaning on their regularly-cut bases, seemed
to defy all laws of equilibrium. From between their stony knees trees
sprang, like a jet under heavy pressure, and upheld others which upheld
them. Natural towers, large scarps, cut perpendicularly, like a "curtain,"
inclined at an angle which the laws of gravitation could never have
tolerated in terrestrial regions.
Two hours after quitting the Nautilus we had crossed the line of trees,
and a hundred feet above our heads rose the top of the mountain, which
cast a shadow on the brilliant irradiation of the opposite slope. Some
petrified shrubs ran fantastically here and there. Fishes got up under our
feet like birds in the long grass. The massive rocks were rent with
impenetrable fractures, deep grottos, and unfathomable holes, at the
bottom of which formidable creatures might be heard moving. My blood
curdled when I saw enormous antennae blocking my road, or some frightful
claw closing with a noise in the shadow of some cavity. Millions of
luminous spots shone brightly in the midst of the darkness. They were the
eyes of giant crustacea crouched in their holes; giant lobsters setting
themselves up like halberdiers, and moving their claws with the clicking
sound of pincers; titanic crabs, pointed like a gun on its carriage; and
frightful-looking poulps, interweaving their tentacles like a living nest
of serpents.
We had now arrived on the first platform, where other surprises awaited
me. Before us lay some picturesque ruins, which betrayed the hand of man
and not that of the Creator. There were vast heaps of stone, amongst which
might be traced the vague and shadowy forms of castles and temples,
clothed with a world of blossoming zoophytes, and over which, instead of
ivy, sea-weed and fucus threw a thick vegetable mantle. But what was this
portion of the globe which had been swallowed by cataclysms? Who had
placed those rocks and stones like cromlechs of prehistoric times? Where
was I? Whither had Captain Nemo's fancy hurried me?
I would fain have asked him; not being able to, I stopped him- I seized
his arm. But, shaking his head, and pointing to the highest point of the
mountain, he seemed to say:
"Come, come along; come higher!"
I followed, and in a few minutes I had climbed to the top, which for a
circle of ten yards commanded the whole mass of rock.
I looked down the side we had just climbed. The mountain did not rise
more than seven or eight hundred feet above the level of the plain; but on
the opposite side it commanded from twice that height the depths of this
part of the Atlantic. My eyes ranged far over a large space lit by a
violent fulguration. In fact, the mountain was a volcano.
At fifty feet above the peak, in the midst of a rain of stones and
scoriae, a large crater was vomiting forth torrents of lava which fell in
a cascade of fire into the bosom of the liquid mass. Thus situated, this
volcano lit the lower plain like an immense torch, even to the extreme
limits of the horizon. I said that the submarine crater threw up lava, but
no flames. Flames require the oxygen of the air to feed upon and cannot be
developed under water; but streams of lava, having in themselves the
principles of their incandescence, can attain a white heat, fight
vigorously against the liquid element, and turn it to vapour by contact.
Rapid currents bearing all these gases in diffusion and torrents of
lava slid to the bottom of the mountain like an eruption of Vesuvius on
another Terra del Greco.
There indeed under my eyes, ruined, destroyed, lay a town- its roofs
open to the sky, its temples fallen, its arches dislocated, its columns
lying on the ground, from which one would still recognise the massive
character of Tuscan architecture. Further on, some remains of a gigantic
aqueduct; here the high base of an Acropolis, with the floating outline of
a Parthenon; there traces of a quay, as if an ancient port had formerly
abutted on the borders of the ocean, and disappeared with its merchant
vessels and its war-galleys. Farther on again, long lines of sunken walls
and broad, deserted streets- a perfect Pompeii escaped beneath the waters.
Such was the sight that Captain Nemo brought before my eyes!
Where was I? Where was I? I must know at any cost. I tried to speak,
but Captain Nemo stopped me by a gesture, and, picking up a piece of
chalk-stone, advanced to a rock of black basalt, and traced the one word:
ATLANTIS
What a light shot through my mind! Atlantis! the Atlantis of Plato,
that continent denied by Origen and Humbolt, who placed its disappearance
amongst the legendary tales. I had it there now before my eyes, bearing
upon it the unexceptionable testimony of its catastrophe. The region thus
engulfed was beyond Europe, Asia, and Lybia, beyond the columns of
Hercules, where those powerful people, the Atlantides, lived, against whom
the first wars of ancient Greeks were waged.
Thus, led by the strangest destiny, I was treading under foot the
mountains of this continent, touching with my hand those ruins a thousand
generations old and contemporary with the geological epochs. I was walking
on the very spot where the contemporaries of the first man had walked.
Whilst I was trying to fix in my mind every detail of this grand
landscape, Captain Nemo remained motionless, as if petrified in mute
ecstasy, leaning on a mossy stone. Was he dreaming of those generations
long since disappeared? Was he asking them the secret of human destiny?
Was it here this strange man came to steep himself in historical
recollections, and live again this ancient life-he who wanted no modern
one? What would I not have given to know his thoughts, to share them, to
understand them! We remained for an hour at this place, contemplating the
vast plains under the brightness of the lava, which was some times
wonderfully intense. Rapid tremblings ran along the mountain caused by
internal bubblings, deep noise, distinctly transmitted through the liquid
medium were echoed with majestic grandeur. At this moment the moon
appeared through the mass of waters and threw her pale rays on the buried
continent. It was but a gleam, but what an indescribable effect! The
Captain rose, cast one last look on the immense plain, and then bade me
follow him.
We descended the mountain rapidly, and, the mineral forest once passed,
I saw the lantern of the Nautilus shining like a star. The Captain walked
straight to it, and we got on board as the first rays of light whitened
the surface of the ocean.
The next day, the 20th of February, I awoke very late: the fatigues of
the previous night had prolonged my sleep until eleven o'clock. I dressed
quickly, and hastened to find the course the Nautilus was taking. The
instruments showed it to be still toward the south, with a speed of twenty
miles an hour and a depth of fifty fathoms.
The species of fishes here did not differ much from those already
noticed. There were rays of giant size, five yards long, and endowed with
great muscular strength, which enabled them to shoot above the waves;
sharks of many kinds; amongst others, one fifteen feet long, with
triangular sharp teeth, and whose transparency rendered it almost
invisible in the water.
Amongst bony fish Conseil noticed some about three yards long, armed at
the upper jaw with a piercing sword; other bright-coloured creatures,
known in the time of Aristotle by the name of the sea-dragon, which are
dangerous to capture on account of the spikes on their back.
About four o'clock, the soil, generally composed of a thick mud mixed
with petrified wood, changed by degrees, and it became more stony, and
seemed strewn with conglomerate and pieces of basalt, with a sprinkling of
lava. I thought that a mountainous region was succeeding the long plains;
and accordingly, after a few evolutions of the Nautilus, I saw the
southerly horizon blocked by a high wall which seemed to close all exit.
Its summit evidently passed the level of the ocean. It must be a
continent, or at least an island-one of the Canaries, or of the Cape Verde
Islands. The bearings not being yet taken, perhaps designedly, I was
ignorant of our exact position. In any case, such a wall seemed to me to
mark the limits of that Atlantis, of which we had in reality passed over
only the smallest part.
Much longer should I have remained at the window admiring the beauties
of sea and sky, but the panels closed. At this moment the Nautilus arrived
at the side of this high, perpendicular wall. What it would do, I could
not guess. I returned to my room; it no longer moved. I laid myself down
with the full intention of waking after a few hours' sleep; but it was
eight o'clock the next day when I entered the saloon. I looked at the
manometer. It told me that the Nautilus was floating on the surface of the
ocean. Besides, I heard steps on the platform. I went to the panel. It was
open; but, instead of broad daylight, as I expected, I was surrounded by
profound darkness. Where were we? Was I mistaken? Was it still night? No;
not a star was shining and night has not that utter darkness.
I knew not what to think, when a voice near me said:
"Is that you, Professor?"
"Ah! Captain," I answered, "where are we?"
"Underground, sir."
"Underground!" I exclaimed. "And the Nautilus floating still?"
"It always floats."
"But I do not understand."
"Wait a few minutes, our lantern will be lit, and, if you like light
places, you will be satisfied."
I stood on the platform and waited. The darkness was so complete that I
could not even see Captain Nemo; but, looking to the zenith, exactly above
my head, I seemed to catch an undecided gleam, a kind of twilight filling
a circular hole. At this instant the lantern was lit, and its vividness
dispelled the faint light. I closed my dazzled eyes for an instant, and
then looked again. The Nautilus was stationary, floating near a mountain
which formed a sort of quay. The lake, then, supporting it was a lake
imprisoned by a circle of walls, measuring two miles in diameter and six
in circumference. Its level (the manometer showed) could only be the same
as the outside level, for there must necessarily be a communication
between the lake and the sea. The high partitions, leaning forward on
their base, grew into a vaulted roof bearing the shape of an immense
funnel turned upside down, the height being about five or six hundred
yards. At the summit was a circular orifice, by which I had caught the
slight gleam of light, evidently daylight.
"Where are we?" I asked.
"In the very heart of an extinct volcano, the interior of which has
been invaded by the sea, after some great convulsion of the earth. Whilst
you were sleeping, Professor, the Nautilus penetrated to this lagoon by a
natural canal, which opens about ten yards beneath the surface of the
ocean. This is its harbour of refuge, a sure, commodious, and mysterious
one, sheltered from all gales. Show me, if you can, on the coasts of any
of your continents or islands, a road which can give such perfect refuge
from all storms."
"Certainly," I replied, "you are in safety here, Captain Nemo. Who
could reach you in the heart of a volcano? But did I not see an opening at
its summit?"
"Yes; its crater, formerly filled with lava, vapour, and flames, and
which now gives entrance to the life-giving air we breathe."
"But what is this volcanic mountain?"
"It belongs to one of the numerous islands with which this sea is
strewn-to vessels a simple sandbank-to us an immense cavern. Chance led me
to discover it, and chance served me well."
"But of what use is this refuge, Captain? The Nautilus wants no port."
"No, sir; but it wants electricity to make it move, and the wherewithal
to make the electricity-sodium to feed the elements, coal from which to
get the sodium, and a coal-mine to supply the coal. And exactly on this
spot the sea covers entire forests embedded during the geological periods,
now mineralised and transformed into coal; for me they are an
inexhaustible mine."
"Your men follow the trade of miners here, then, Captain?"
"Exactly so. These mines extend under the waves like the mines of
Newcastle. Here, in their diving-dresses, pick axe and shovel in hand, my
men extract the coal, which I do not even ask from the mines of the earth.
When I burn this combustible for the manufacture of sodium, the smoke,
escaping from the crater of the mountain, gives it the appearance of a
still-active volcano."
"And we shall see your companions at work?"
"No; not this time at least; for I am in a hurry to continue our
submarine tour of the earth. So I shall content myself with drawing from
the reserve of sodium I already possess. The time for loading is one day
only, and we continue our voyage. So, if you wish to go over the cavern
and make the round of the lagoon, you must take advantage of to-day, M.
Aronnax."
I thanked the Captain and went to look for my companions, who had not
yet left their cabin. I invited them to follow me without saying where we
were. They mounted the platform. Conseil, who was astonished at nothing,
seemed to look upon it as quite natural that he should wake under a
mountain, after having fallen asleep under the waves. But Ned Land thought
of nothing but finding whether the cavern had any exit. After breakfast,
about ten o'clock, we went down on to the mountain.
"Here we are, once more on land," said Conseil.
"I do not call this land," said the Canadian. "And besides, we are not
on it, but beneath it."
Between the walls of the mountains and the waters of the lake lay a
sandy shore which, at its greatest breadth, measured five hundred feet. On
this soil one might easily make the tour of the lake. But the base of the
high partitions was stony ground, with volcanic locks and enormous
pumice-stones lying in picturesque heaps. All these detached masses,
covered with enamel, polished by the action of the subterraneous fires,
shone resplendent by the light of our electric lantern. The mica dust from
the shore, rising under our feet, flew like a cloud of sparks. The bottom
now rose sensibly, and we soon arrived at long circuitous slopes, or
inclined planes, which took us higher by degrees; but we were obliged to
walk carefully among these conglomerates, bound by no cement, the feet
slipping on the glassy crystal, felspar, and quartz.
The volcanic nature of this enormous excavation was confirmed on all
sides, and I pointed it out to my companions.
"Picture to yourselves," said I, "what this crater must have been when
filled with boiling lava, and when the level of the incandescent liquid
rose to the orifice of the mountain, as though melted on the top of a hot
plate."
"I can picture it perfectly," said Conseil. "But, sir, will you tell me
why the Great Architect has suspended operations, and how it is that the
furnace is replaced by the quiet waters of the lake?"
"Most probably, Conseil, because some convulsion beneath the ocean
produced that very opening which has served as a passage for the Nautilus.
Then the waters of the Atlantic rushed into the interior of the mountain.
There must have been a terrible struggle between the two elements, a
struggle which ended in the victory of Neptune. But many ages have run out
since then, and the submerged volcano is now a peaceable grotto."
"Very well," replied Ned Land; "I accept the explanation, sir; but, in
our own interests, I regret that the opening of which you speak was not
made above the level of the sea."
"But, friend Ned," said Conseil, "if the passage had not been under the
sea, the Nautilus could not have gone through it."
We continued ascending. The steps became more and more perpendicular
and narrow. Deep excavations, which we were obliged to cross, cut them
here and there; sloping masses had to be turned. We slid upon our knees
and crawled along. But Conseil's dexterity and the Canadian's strength
surmounted all obstacles. At a height of about 31 feet the nature of the
ground changed without becoming more practicable. To the conglomerate and
trachyte succeeded black basalt, the first dispread in layers full of
bubbles, the latter forming regular prisms, placed like a colonnade
supporting the spring of the immense vault, an admirable specimen of
natural architecture. Between the blocks of basalt wound long streams of
lava, long since grown cold, encrusted with bituminous rays; and in some
places there were spread large carpets of sulphur. A more powerful light
shone through the upper crater, shedding a vague glimmer over these
volcanic depressions for ever buried in the bosom of this extinguished
mountain. But our upward march was soon stopped at a height of about two
hundred and fifty feet by impassable obstacles. There was a complete
vaulted arch overhanging us, and our ascent was changed to a circular
walk. At the last change vegetable life began to struggle with the
mineral. Some shrubs, and even some trees, grew from the fractures of the
walls. I recognised some euphorbias, with the caustic sugar coming from