 This is the LibraVox recording. All LibraVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibraVox.org. Recording by Kurt Wong. 20,000 Leagues Under the Seas by Jules Verne. First part, Chapter 24. The Coral Realm. The next day, I woke up with my head unusually clear. Much to my surprise, I was in my state room. No doubt my companions had been put back in their cabin without noticing it any more than I had. Like me, they would have no idea what took place during the night, and to unravel this mystery, I could only count on some future happenstance. I then considered leaving my state room. Was I free or still a prisoner? Perfectly free, I opened my door, headed down the gangways and climbed the central companion way. Hatches that had been closed the day before were now open. I arrived on the platform. Nedland and Consley were there waiting for me. I questioned them. They knew nothing. Lost in a heavy sleep of which they had no memory, they were quite startled to be back in their cabin. As for the Nautilus, it seemed as tranquil and mysterious as ever. It was cruising on the surface of the waves at a moderate speed. Nothing seemed to have changed on board. Nedland observed the sea with his penetrating eyes. It was deserted. The Canadian sighted nothing new on the horizon, neither sail nor shore. A breeze was blowing noisily from the west, and disheveled by the wind, long billows made the submersible roll very noticeably. After renewing its air, the Nautilus stayed at an average depth of 15 metres, enabling it to return quickly to the surface of the waves. And, contrary to custom, it executed such a maneuver several times during that day of January 19. The chief officer would then climb onto the platform, and his usual phrase would ring through the ship's interior. As for Captain Nemo, he didn't appear. Of the other men on board, I only saw my emotionless steward, who served me with his usual mute efficiency. Near two o'clock, I was busy organizing my notes in the lounge when the captain opened the door and appeared. I bowed to him. He gave me an almost imperceptible bow in return without saying a word to me. I resumed my work, hoping he might give me some explanation for the previous afternoon's events. He did nothing of the sort. I stared at him. His face looked exhausted. His reddened eyes hadn't been refreshed by sleep. His facial features expressed profound sadness, real chagrin. He walked up and down. Satin stood, picked up a book at random, discarded it immediately, consulted his instruments without taking his customary notes, and seemed unable to rest easy for an instant. Finally, he came over to me and said, Are you a physician, Professor Aranax? This inquiry was so unexpected that I stared at him a good while without replying. Are you a physician, he repeated? Several of your scientific colleagues took their degrees in medicine, such as gratiolet, moquantendon, and others. That's right, I said. I am a doctor. I used to be on call at the hospitals. I was in practice for several years before joining the museum. Excellent, sir. My reply obviously pleased Captain Nemo, but not knowing what he was driving at, I waited for further questions, ready to reply as circumstances dictated. Professor Aranax, the captain said to me, would you consent to give your medical attention to one of my men? Someone is sick? Yes, I'm ready to go with you. Come. I admit that my heart was pounding. Lord knows why, but I saw a definite connection between this sick crewman and yesterday's happenings, and the mystery of those events concerned me at least as much as this man's sickness. Captain Nemo led me to the Nautilus's stern and invited me into a cabin located next to the sailor's quarters. On a bed there lay a man some 40 years old with strongly molded features, the very image of an Anglo-Saxon. I bent over him. Not only was he sick, he was wounded, swathed in blood-soaked linen, his head was resting on a folded pillow. I ended the linen bandages while the wounded man gazed with great staring eyes, and let me proceed without making a single complaint. It was a horrible wound. The cranium had been smashed open by some blunt instrument, leaving the naked brains exposed, the cerebral matter had suffered deep abrasions. Blood clots had formed in this dissolving mass, taking on the color of wine dregs. Both contusion and concussion of the brain had occurred. The sick man's breathing was labored, and muscle spasms quivered in his face. Cerebral inflammation was complete, and had brought on a paralysis of movement and sensation. I took the wounded man's pulse. It was intermittent. The body's extremities were already growing cold, and I saw that death was approaching without any possibility of my holding it in check. After dressing the poor man's wound, I redid the linen bandages around his head, and I turned to Captain Nemo. How did he get this wound, I asked him. That is not important, the captain replied evasively. The Nautilus suffered a collision that cracked one of the engine levers, and it struck this man. My chief officer was standing beside him. This man leapt forward to intercept the blow. A brother lays down his life for his brother, a friend for his friend. What could be simpler? That's the law for everyone on board the Nautilus. But what's your diagnosis of his condition? I hesitated to speak my mind. You may talk freely, the captain told me. This man doesn't understand French. I took a last look at the wounded man. Then I replied, this man will be dead in two hours. Nothing can save him? Nothing. Captain Nemo clenched his fists, and tears slid from his eyes, which I had thought incapable of weeping. For a few moments more, I observed the dying man, whose life was ebbing little by little. He grew still more pale under the electric light that bathed his deathbed. I looked at his intelligent head, furrowed with premature wrinkles that misfortune, perhaps misery, had etched long before. I was hoping to detect the secret of his life in the last word that might escape from his lips. You may go, Professor Aronax. Captain Nemo told me. I left the captain in the dying man's cabin and repaired to my stateroom, very moved by this scene. All day long, I equipped her with gruesome forebodings. That night, I slept poorly, and between my fitful dreams, I thought I heard a distant moaning, like a funeral dirge. Was it a prayer for the dead? murmured in that language I couldn't understand. The next morning, I climbed on deck. Captain Nemo was already there. As soon as he saw me, he came over. Professor, he said to me, would it be convenient for you to make an underwater excursion today? With my companions, I asked, if they're agreeable, we're yours to command, Captain. Then kindly put on your diving suits. As for the dead or dying man, he hadn't come into the picture. I rejoined Nedland and Consei. I informed them of Captain Nemo's preposition. Consei was eager to accept, and this time the Canadian proved perfectly amenable to going with us. It was 8 o'clock in the morning. By 8.30, we were suited up for this new stroll and equipped with our two devices for lighting and breathing. The double door opened and accompanied by Captain Nemo with a dozen crewmen following, we set foot on the firm sea floor where the Nautilus was resting, 10 meters down. A gentle slope gravitated to an uneven bottom whose depth was about 15 fathoms. This bottom was completely different from the one I had visited during my first excursion under the waters of the Pacific Ocean. Here, I saw no fine grain sand, no underwater prairies, not one open sea forest. I immediately recognized the wondrous region in which Captain Nemo did the honors that day. It was the coral realm. In the Zufaid branched class Alcian area, one finds the order Gorgonaria, which contains three groups, sea fans, insidian polyps, and coral polyps. It's in this last that precious coral belongs, an unusual substance that, at different times, has been classified in the mineral, vegetable, and animal kingdoms. Medicine to the ancients, jewelry to the moderns, it wasn't decisively placed in the animal kingdom until 1694 by Pisonel of Marseille. A coral is a unit of tiny animals assembled over polypary that's brittle and stony in nature. These polyps have a unique generating mechanism that reproduces them via the budding process, and they have an individual existence while also participating in a communal life. Hence, they embody a sort of natural socialism. I was familiar with the latest research on this bizarre Zufaid, which turns to stone while taking on a tree form as some naturalists had very aptly observed. And nothing could have been more fascinating to me than to visit one of these petrified forests that nature has planted on the bottom of the sea. We turned on our room corp devices and went along a coral shoal in the process of forming, which, given time, will someday close off this whole part of the Indian Ocean. Our path was bordered by hopelessly tangled bushes formed from snarls of shrubs all covered with little star-shaped white-streaked flowers. Only, contrary to plants and shore, these tree forms become attached to rocks on the sea floor by heading from top to bottom. Our light produced a thousand delightful effects while playing over these brightly colored boughs. I fancied I saw these cylindrical membrane-filled tubes trembling beneath the waters undulations. I was tempted to gather their fresh petals, which were adorned with delicate tentacles. Some newly in bloom, others barely opened, while nimble fish with fluttering fins brushed past them like flocks of birds. But if my hands came near the moving flowers of these sensitive, lively creatures, an alarm would instantly sound throughout the colony. The white petals retracted into the red sheaths, the flowers vanished before my eyes, and the bush changed into a chunk of stony nipples. Sheer chants had placed me in the presence of the most valuable specimens of this zoo fight. This coral was the equal of those fished up from the Mediterranean off the Barbary Coast or the shores of France and Italy. With its bright colors, it lived up to those poetic names of blood flower and blood foam that the industry confers on its finest exhibits. Coral cells were as much as 500 francs per kilogram. And in this locality, the liquid strata hit enough to make the fortunes of a whole host of coral fishermen. This valuable substance often merges with other polyperies, forming compact, hopelessly tangled units known as Machiota, and I noted some wonderful pink samples of this coral. But, as the bushes shrank, the tree forms magnified, actual petrified thickets and alcoves from some fantastic school of architecture kept opening before our steps. Captain Nemo entered beneath a dark gallery, whose gentle slope took us to a depth of 100 meters. The light from our glass coils produced magical effects at times, lingering on the wrinkled roughness of some natural arch or some overhang suspended like a chandelier, which our lamps flecked with fiery sparks. Amid these shrubs of precious coral, I observed other polyps no less unusual. Malita coral, rainbow coral with jointed outgrowths, then a few tufts of genus Corolina, some green and others red, actually a type of seaweed encrusted with limestone salts, which, after long disputes, naturalists have finally placed in the vegetable kingdom. But, as one intellectual has remarked, here perhaps is the actual point where life rises humbly out of slumbering stone, but without breaking away from its crude starting point. Finally, after two hours of walking, we reached a depth of about 300 meters. In other words, the lowest limit at which coral can begin to form. But here, it was no longer some isolated bush or a modest grove of low timber. It was an immense forest, huge mineral vegetation, enormous patrified trees linked by garlands of elegant hydras from the genus Plumilaria, those tropical creepers of the sea, all decked out in shades and gleams. We passed freely under their lofty boughs, lost up in the shadows of the waves, while at our feet, organ pipe coral, stony coral, star coral, fungus coral, and sea anemone from the genus Carophilia formed a carpet of flowers, all strewn with dazzling gems. What an indescribable sight! Oh, if only we could share our feelings! Why were we imprisoned behind these masks of metal and glass? Why were we forbidden to talk with each other? At least let us lead the lives of the fish that populate this liquid element. Or better yet, the lives of amphibians which can spend long hours either at sea or on shore travelling through their double domain as their winds dictate. Meanwhile, Captain Nemo had called a halt. My companions and I stopped walking and turning around. I saw the crewmen form a semi-circle around their leader. Looking with greater care, I observed that four of them were carrying on their shoulders an object that was oblong in shape. At this locality, we stood in the centre of a huge clearing surrounded by the tall tree forms of this underwater forest. Our lamps cast a sort of brilliant twilight over the area, making inordinately long shadows on the sea floor. Past the boundaries of the clearing, the darkness deepened again, relieved only by little sparkles given off by the sharp crests of coral. Nedland and Concey stood next to me. We stared, and it dawned on me that I was about to witness a strange scene. Observing the sea floor, I saw that it swelled at certain points from low bulges that were encrusted with limestone deposits and arranged with the symmetry that betrayed the hand of man. In the middle of the clearing, on a pedestal of roughly piled rocks, there stood a cross of coral extending long arms you would have thought were made of petrified blood. At a signal from Captain Nemo, one of his men stepped forward, and a few feet from this cross detached a maddock from his belt and began to dig a hole. I finally understood. This clearing was a cemetery, this hole a grave, that oblong object that was the body of the man who must have died during the night. Captain Nemo and his men had come to bury their companion in this communal resting place on the inaccessible ocean floor. No. My mind was reeling as never before. Never had ideas of such impact raced through my brain. I didn't want to see what my eyes saw. Meanwhile, the grave digging went slowly. Fish fled here and there as the retreat was disturbed. I heard the pick ringing on the limestone soil, its iron tip sometimes giving off sparks when it hit a stray piece of flint on the sea bottom. The hole grew longer, wider, and soon was deep enough to receive the body. Then the pallbearers approached. Wrapped in white fabric made from filaments of the fan muscle, the body was lowered into its watery grave. Captain Nemo arms crossed over his chest, knelt in a posture of prayer, as did all the friends of him who had loved them. My two companions and I bowed reverently. The grave was then covered over with the rubble dug from the sea floor, and it formed a low mound. When this was done, Captain Nemo and his men stood up. Then they all approached the grave, sank again on vended knee, and extended their hands in a sign of final farewell. They backed up the path to the Nautilus, returning beneath the arches of the forest, through the thickets along the coral bushes, going steadily higher. Finally the ship's rays appeared. Their luminous trail guided us to the Nautilus. By one o'clock we had returned. After changing clothes I climbed onto the platform and in the grip of dreadfully obsessive thoughts I sat next to the beacon. Captain Nemo rejoined me. I stood up and said to him, so as I predicted, that man died during the night. Yes, Professor Aranax, Captain Nemo, replied. And now he rests beside his companions in that coral cemetery. Yes, forgotten by the world, but not by us. We dig the graves, then entrust the polyps with sealing away our dead for eternity. And with a sudden gesture, the captain hid his face in his clenched fists, vainly trying to hold back a sob. Then he added, there lies our peaceful cemetery, hundreds of feet beneath the surface of the waves. At least, Captain, your dead can sleep serenely there, out of the reach of sharks. Yes, sir, Captain Nemo, replied solemnly, of sharks and men. End of Chapter Twenty-Four End of the First Part Recorded by Kurt Wong October 1st 2006, New York This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org Recording by Paul Gabriel Wiener Twenty-Thousand Leagues Under the Seas by Jules Verne Second Part Chapter One The Indian Ocean Now we begin the second part of this voyage under the seas. The first ended in that moving scene at the coral cemetery, which left a profound impression on my mind. And so Captain Nemo would live out his life entirely in the heart of this immense sea, and even his grave lay ready in its impenetrable depths. There, the last sleep of the Nautilus' occupants, friends bound together in death as in life, would be disturbed by no monster of the deep. No man, either, the Captain had added, always that same fierce implacable defiance of human society. As for me, I was no longer content with the hypotheses that satisfied Colet, but the fine lad persisted in seeing the Nautilus' commander as merely one of those unappreciated scientists who repay humanity's indifference with contempt. For Concey, the Captain was still a misunderstood genius who, tired of the world's deceptions, had been driven to take refuge in this inaccessible environment where he was free to follow his instincts. But, to my mind, this hypothesis explained only one side of Captain Nemo. In fact, the mystery of that last afternoon when we were locked in prison and put to sleep, the Captain's violent precaution of snatching from my grasp a spyglass poise to scour the horizon, and the fatal wound given that man during some unexplained collision suffered by the Nautilus all led me down a plain trail. No, Captain Nemo wasn't content simply to avoid humanity. His fearsome submersible served not only his quest for freedom, but also, perhaps, it was used in Lord Knows What Schemes of Dreadful Revenge. Right now, nothing is clear to me. I still glimpse only glimmers in the dark, and I must limit my pen, as it were, to taking dictation from events. But nothing binds us to Captain Nemo. He believes that escaping from the Nautilus is impossible. We are not even constrained by our word of honour. No promises feter us. We're simply captives, prisoners masquerading under the name guests, for that sake of everyday courtesy. Even so, Ned Land hasn't given up all hope of recovering his freedom. He's sure to take advantage of the first chance that comes his way. No doubt I will do likewise. And yet I will feel some regret at making off with the Nautilus's secrets so generously unveiled for us by Captain Nemo. Because, ultimately, should we detest or admire this man? Is he the persecutor or the persecuted? And in all honesty, before I leave him forever, I want to finish this underwater tour of the world, whose first stages have been so magnificent. I want to observe the full series of these wonders gathered under the seas of our globe. I want to see what no man has seen yet, even if I must pay for this insatiable curiosity with my life. What are my discoveries to date? Nothing, relatively speaking, since so far we've covered only 6,000 leagues across the Pacific. Nevertheless, I'm well aware that the Nautilus is drawing near to populated shores, and if some chance for salvation becomes available to us, it would be sheer cruelty to sacrifice my companions to my passion for the unknown. I must go with them, perhaps even guide them. But will this opportunity ever arise? A human being, robbed of his free will, craves such an opportunity. But the scientist, forever inquisitive, dreads it. That day, January 21st, 1868, the chief officer went at noon to take the son's altitude. I climbed onto the platform, lit a cigar, and watched him at work. It seemed obvious to me that this man didn't understand French, because I made several remarks in a loud voice that were bound to provoke him to some involuntary show of interest had he understood them. But he remained mute and emotionless. While he took his sights with his sextant, one of the Nautilus's sailors, that muscular man who had gone with us to Crespo Island during our first underwater excursion, came up to clean the glass panes of the beacon. I then examined the fittings of this mechanism, whose power was increased a hundredfold by bi-convax lenses that were designed like those in a mass, and kept its rays productively focused. This electric lamp was so constructed as to yield as maximum illuminating power. In essence, its light was generated in a vacuum, ensuring both its steadiness and intensity. Such a vacuum also reduced wear on the graphite points between which the luminous arc expanded. This was an important savings for Captain Nemo, who couldn't easily renew them. But under these conditions, wear and tear were almost non-existent. When the Nautilus was ready to resume its underwater travels, I went below again to the lounge. The hatches closed once more and our course was set due west. We then plowed the waves of the Indian Ocean, vast liquid plains with an area of 550 million hectares, whose waters are so transparent it makes you dizzy to lean over their surface. There, the Nautilus generally drifted at a depth between 100 and 200 meters. It behaved in this way for some days. To anyone without my grand passion for the sea, these hours would surely have seemed long and monotonous. But my daily strolls on the platform where I was revived by the life-giving ocean air, the sights in the rich waters beyond the lounge windows, the books to be read in the library, and the composition of my memoirs took up all my time and left me without a moment of weariness or boredom. All in all, we enjoyed a highly post-factory state of health. The diet on board agreed with us perfectly, and for my part I could easily have gone without those changes of pace that net land, in a spirit of protest, kept taxing his ingenuity to supply us. What's more, in this constant temperature we didn't even have to worry about catching colds. Besides, the ship had a good stock of the madro poor dendrophilia, known in Provence by the name sea fennel, and a poultice made from the dissolved flesh of its polyps will furnish an excellent cough medicine. For some days we saw a large number of aquatic birds with webbed feet known as gulls or sea mus. Some were skillfully slain, and when cooked in a certain fashion they made a very acceptable platter of water-game. Among the great wind-riders, carried over long distances from every shore and resting on the ways from their exhausting flights, I spotted some magnificent albatross, birds belonging to the laundry pens, long-winged family, whose discordant call sound like the braying of an ass. The toady-palms, fully webbed family, was represented by swift frigate birds, nimbly catching fish at the surface, and by numerous tropic birds of the genus Phaeton, among others the red-tailed tropic bird, the size of a pigeon, its white plumage shaded with pink tints that contrasted with its dark-cawed wings. The Nautilus's nets hauled up several types of sea turtle from the hawksbill genus with arching backs whose scales are highly prized. Diving easily these reptiles can remain a good while under water by closing the fleshy valves located at the external openings of their nasal passages. When they were captured some hawkbills were still asleep inside their carapaces, a refuge from other marine animals. The flesh of these turtles was nothing memorable, but their eggs made an excellent feast. As for fish, they always filled us with wonderment when, staring through the open panels, we could unveil the secrets of their aquatic lives. I noted several species I hadn't previously been able to observe. I'll mention chiefly some trunk fish unique to the Red Sea, the Sea of the East Indies, and that part of the ocean washing the coast of equinoctical America. Like turtles, armadillos, sea urchins, and crustaceans, these fish are protected by a armor plate that's neither chalky nor stony, but actual bone. Sometimes this armor takes the shape of a solid triangle, sometimes that of a solid quadrangle. Among the triangular type I noticed some a half a decimeter long with brown tails, yellow fins, and wholesome exquisitely tasty flesh. I even recommend that they be acclimatized to fresh water, a change incidentally that a number of saltwater fish can make with ease. I'll also mention some quadrangular trunk fish topped by four large protuberances along the back, trunk fish sprinkled with white spots on the underside of the body, which make good house pets like certain birds, box fish armed with stings formed by extensions of their bony crust, and whose odd grunting has earned them the nickname sea pigs, then some trunk fish known as dromedaries, with tough leathery flesh and big conical humps. The notes kept by Mr. Concey I also retrieved certain fish from the genus tetradon, unique to these z's. Southern buffers with red backs and white chests distinguished by three lengthwise rows of filaments, and jugfish, seven inches long, decked out in the brightest colors. Then as specimens of other genera, blowfish resembling a dark brown egg furrowed with white bands and lacking tails. Globefish, genuine porcupines of the sea, armed with stings and able to inflate themselves until they look like a pincushion bristling with needles. Seahorses common to every ocean. Flying dragonfish with long snouts and highly distended pectoral fins shaped like wings, which enable them if not to fly, at least to spring into the air. Spatula-shaped paddlefish whose tails are covered with many scaly rings. Snipefish with long jaws excellent animals 25 centimeters long and gleaming with the most cheerful colors. Bluish gray dragonettes with wrinkled heads, myriads of leaping blenies with black stripes and long pectoral fins gliding over the surface of the water with prodigious speed. Delicious sailfish that can hoist their fins in a favorable current like so many unfurled sails. Splendid nursery-fish on which nature has lavished yellow, azure, silver and gold. Yellow mackerel with wings made of filaments. Bullheads forever spattered with mud, which make distinct hissing sounds. Sea robins whose livers are thought to be poisonous. Ladyfish that can flutter their eyelids. Finally, archerfish with long tubular snouts. Real ocean-going fly-catchers armed with a rifle unforeseen by either Remington or Chassapod. It slays insects by shooting them with a simple drop of water. From the 89th fish genus in Lesapades a system of classification belonging to a second subclass of bony fish, characterized by gill covers and a bronchial membrane, I noticed some scorpion fish whose heads are adorned with stings and which only one dorsal fin. These animals are covered with small scales, or have none at all, depending on the subgenus to which they belong. The second subgenus gave us some didactylus specimens three to four decimeters long, streaked with yellow, their heads having a phantasmagoric appearance. As for the first subgenus, it furnished several specimens of that bizarre fish aptly nicknamed toadfish whose big head is sometimes gouged with deep cavities, sometimes swollen with protuberances, bristling with stings and strewn with nodules, it sports hideously irregular horns, its body and tail are adorned with callosities, its stings can inflict dangerous injuries, it's repulsive and horrible. From January 21st to the 23rd, the Nautilus traveled at the rate of 250 leagues in 24 hours, hence 540 miles at 22 miles per hour. If during our trip we were able to identify these different varieties of fish, it's because they were attracted by our electric light and tried to follow alongside. But most of them were out-distance by our speed and soon fell behind. Temporarily, however, a few managed to keep pace in the Nautilus's waters. On the morning of the 24th, in latitude 12 degrees 5 hours south, and longitude 94 degrees 33 hours, we raised Keeling Island, a matriporic upheaving planted with magnificent coconut trees, which had been visited by Mr. Darwin and Captain Fitzroy. The Nautilus cruised along a short distance off the shore of this desert island. Our dragnets brought up many specimens of polyps in a kidney derms, plus some unusual shells from the branch mollusca. Captain Nemo's treasures were enhanced by some valuable exhibits from the Delfinula snail species, to which I joined some pointed star coral, a sort of parasitic polypry that often attaches itself to seashells. Soon, Keeling Island disappeared below the horizon and our course was set to the northwest, toward the tip of the Indian Peninsula. Civilisation, Ned Land told me that day, much better than those poppin islands where we ran into more savages than venison. On this Indian shore, Professor, there are roads and railways, English, French, and Hindu villages. We wouldn't go five miles without bumping into a fellow countryman. Come on, now. Isn't it time for our sudden departure from Captain Nemo? No, no, Ned, I replied in a very firm tone. Let's ride it out, as you see fellow say. The Nautilus is approaching populated areas. It's going back toward Europe. Let it take us there. After we arrive in home waters, we can do as we see fit. Besides, I don't imagine Captain Nemo will let us go hunting off the coasts of Malabar or Coromandel as he did in the forests of New Guinea. Well, sir, can't we manage without his permission? I didn't answer the Canadian. I did no arguments. Deep down, I was determined to fully exploit the good fortune that had put me on board the Nautilus. After leaving Keeling Island, our pace got generally slower. It also got more unpredictable, often taking us to great depths. Several times, we used our slanting fins, which internal levers could set at an oblique angle to our waterline. Thus, we went as deep as two or three kilometers down, verifying the lowest depths of this sea near India, which soundings of 13,000 meters have been unable to reach. As for the temperature in these lower strata, the thermometer always and invariably indicated four degrees centigrade. I merely observed that in the upper layers, the water was always colder over shallows than in the open sea. On January 25, the ocean being completely deserted, the Nautilus spent the day on the Nautilus, churning the waves with its powerful propeller and making them spur to great heights. Under these conditions, who wouldn't have mistaken it for a gigantic cetacean? I spent three quarters of the day on the platform. I stared at the sea. Nothing on the horizon except near four o'clock in the afternoon, a long steamer to the west, running on our opposite tack. Its masting was visible for an instant, but it couldn't have seen the Nautilus in the water. I imagine that steamboat belonged to the peninsula and Oriental line, which provides service from the island of Ceylon to Sydney, also calling it King George Sound in Melbourne. At five o'clock in the afternoon, just before that brief twilight that links day with night in tropical zones, Concey and I marveled at an unusual sight. It was a delightful animal whose discovery, according to the ancients, was of good luck. Aristotle, Athenius, Pliny, and Opium studied its habits and lavished on its behalf all the scientific poetry of Greece and Italy. They called it Nautilus and Pompilius. But modern science has not endorsed these designations, and this mollusk is now known by the name Argonaut. Anyone consulting Concey would soon learn from the gallant lad that the branch molluska is divided into two classes. That the first class features cephalopoda, whose members are sometimes naked, sometimes covered with a shell, which consists of two families, the di-branchiata and the tetra-branchiata, which are distinguished by their number of gills. That the family di-branchiata includes three genera, the Argonaut, the squid, and the cuttlefish, and that the family tetra-branchiata contains only one genus, the Nautilus. After this catalogue, if some recalcitrant listener confuses the Argonaut, which is acetypuliferous, in other words, a bearer of suction tubes, with the Nautilus, which is tentaculiferous, a bearer of tentacles, it will be simply unforgivable. Now, it was a school of Argonauts then voyaging on the surface of the ocean. We could count several hundred of them. They belong to that species of Argonaut covered with protuberances and exclusive to the seas near India. These graceful mollusks were swimming backwards by means of their locomotive tubes, sucking water into these tubes and then expelling it. Six of their eight tentacles were long, thin, and floated on the water, while the other two were rounded into palms and spread to the wind like light sails. I could see perfectly their undulating spiral-shaped shells, which creaver aptly compared to an elegant cockle-boat. It's an actual boat, indeed. It transports the animal that secretes it without the animal sticking to it. The Argonaut is free to leave its shell, I told Concey, but it never does. Not unlike Captain Nemo, Concey replied sagely, which is why he should have christened the ship's the Argonaut. For about an hour the Nautilus cruised the midst of this school of mollusks. Then, Lord knows why, they were grift with a sudden fear, and if at a signal every sail was abruptly lowered, arms folded, bodies contracted, shells turned over by changing their center of gravity, and the whole flotilla disappeared under the waves. It was instantaneous and no squadron of ships ever maneuvered with greater togetherness. Just then the night fell suddenly, and the waves barely surged in the breeze, spreading placidly around the Nautilus's side plates. The next day, January 26th, we cut the equator on the 82nd meridian and we re-entered the northern hemisphere. During that day a fearsome school of sharks provided us with an escort. Dreadful animals that team in these seas and make them extremely dangerous. There were Port Jackson sharks with a brown back, a whitish belly, and eleven rows of teeth. Big Eye sharks with necks marked by a large black spot encircled in white and resembling an eye, and Isabella sharks whose rounded snouts were strewn with dark speckles. Often these powerful animals rushed at the lounge window with a violence less than comforting. By this point Ned Land had lost all self-control. He wanted to rise to the surface of the waves and harpoon these monsters, especially certain smoothhound sharks whose mouths were paved with teeth arranged like a mosaic, and some big five-meter tiger sharks existed on personally provoking him. But the noddle has soon picked up speed and easily left to cern the fastest of these man-eaters. On January 27th at the entrance to the huge bay of Bengal, we repeatedly encountered a gruesome sight. Human corpses floating on the surface of the waves. Carried by the Ganges to the high seas these were deceased Indian villagers who hadn't been fully devoured by vultures, the only morticians in these parts. But there was no shortage of sharks to assist them with their undertaking chores. Near seven o'clock in the evening the nautilus lay half-submerged, navigating in the midst of milky white waves. As far as the eye could see the ocean seemed lactified. Was it in effect of the moon's rays? No, because the new moon was barely two days old and was still lost below the horizon in the sun's rays. The entire sky, although lit up by stellar radiation, seemed to pitch black in comparison with the whiteness of these waters. Conce couldn't believe his eyes and he questioned me about the causes of this odd phenomenon. Luckily I was in a position to answer him. That's called a milk sea, I told him. A vast expanse of white waves often seen along the coasts of Amboyna and in these waterways. But, Conce asked, could master tell me the cause of this effect because I presume this water hasn't really changed into milk. No, my boy, and this whiteness that amazes you is merely due to the presence of myriads of tiny creatures called infusoria, a sort of diminutive glowworm that's colorless and gelatinous in appearance, as thick as a strand of hair and no longer than one-fifth of a millimeter. Some of these tiny creatures stick together over an area of several leagues. Several leagues, Conce exclaimed. Yes, my boy, and don't even try to compute the number of these infusoria. You won't pull it off because, if I'm not mistaken, certain navigators have cruised through milk seas for more than 40 miles. I'm not sure that Conce heeded my recommendation because he seemed to be deep in thought, no doubt trying to calculate how many one-fifths of a millimeter are found in 40 square miles. As for me, I continued to observe this phenomenon for several hours. The nautilus's spur sliced through these whitish waves, and I watched it glide noiselessly over this soby water, as if it were cruising through those foaming eddies that abase currents and countercurrents sometimes leave between each other. Near midnight the sea suddenly resumed its usual hue, but behind us all the way to the horizon the skies kept mirroring the whiteness of those waves for a good while seemed imbued with the hazy glow of an aurora borealis. End of chapter 1 Recorded by Paul Gabriel Wiener September 2006 East Brunswick, New Jersey Recorded by Michael Karnwright 20,000 Leagues Under the Seas by Jules Verne 2nd Part Chapter 2 A New Proposition From Captain Nemo 28, in latitude 9 degrees 4 minutes north when the nautilus returned at noon to the surface of the sea it lay in sight of land some 8 miles to the west. Right off I observed a cluster of mountains about 2,000 feet high whose shapes were very whimsically sculpted. After our position fix I re-entered the lounge and when our bearings were reported on the chart I saw that we were off the island of Ceylon that pearl dangling from the lower lobe of the Indian Peninsula. I went looking in the library for a book about this island one of the most fertile in the world. Sure enough I found a volume entitled Ceylon and the Syngales by H. C. Sir Esquire. Re-entering the lounge I first noted the bearings of Ceylon on which antiquity lavished so many different names. It was located between latitude 5 degrees 55 minutes and 9 degrees 49 minutes north and between longitude 79 degrees 42 minutes and 82 degrees 4 minutes east of the meridian of Greenwich. Its length is 275 miles its maximum width 150 miles its circumference 900 miles its surface area is 1,448 square miles in other words a little smaller than that of Ireland. Just then Captain Nemo and his chief officer appeared. The captain glanced at the chart then turning to me the island of Ceylon he said is famous for its pearl fisheries would you be interested Professor Aranax in visiting one of these fisheries? Certainly Captain we'll be done only when we see the fisheries we'll see no fishermen the annual harvest hasn't begun no matter I'll give the orders to make for the Gulf of Minar and we'll arrive there late tonight. The captain said a few words to his chief officer who went out immediately soon the Nautilus re-entered his liquid element and the pressure gauge indicated that it was staying at a depth of 30 feet. With the chart under my eyes I looked for the Gulf of Minar I found it by the 9th parallel off the northwestern shores of Ceylon it was formed by the long curve of the little Minar island to reach it we had to go all the way up Ceylon's west coast Professor Captain Nemo then told me there are pearl fisheries in the Bay of Bengal the seas of the East Indies the seas of China and Japan plus those seas south of the United States the Gulf of Panama and the Gulf of California but it's off Ceylon that such fishing reaps its richest rewards no doubt we'll be arriving a little early fishermen gather in the Gulf of Minar only during the month of March and for 30 days some 300 boats concentrate on the lucrative harvest of these treasures from the sea each boat is manned by 10 oarsmen and 10 fishermen the latter divide into two groups, dive in rotation and descend to a depth of 12 meters with the help of a heavy stone clutched between their feet and attached by a rope to their boat you mean, I said that such primitive methods are still all that they use all, Captain Nemo answered me although these fisheries belong to the most industrialized people in the world, the English to whom the Treaty of Amines granted them in 1802 yet it strikes me that diving suits like yours could perform yeoman service in such work yes, since those poor fishermen can't stay long underwater on his voyage to Ceylon the Englishman Percival made much of a kafir who stayed under five minutes without coming up to the surface but I find that hard to believe I know that some divers can last up to 57 seconds and highly skilful ones to 87 but such men are rare and when those poor fellows climb back on board, the water is coming out of their noses and ears is tinged with blood I believe the average time underwater that these fishermen can tolerate is 30 seconds during which they hastily stuff their little nets with all the pearl oysters that are loose but these fishermen generally don't live to an advanced age their vision weakens ulcers break out on their eyes sores form on their bodies and some are even stricken with apoplexy on the ocean floor yes, I said it's a sad occupation and one that exists only to gratify the whims of fashion but tell me captain how many oysters can a boat about 40 to 50 thousand it's even said that in 1814 when the English government went fishing on its own behalf its divers worked just 20 days and brought up 76 million oysters at least, I said the fishermen are well paid aren't they hardly professor and Panama, they make just one dollar per week in most places they earn only a penny for each oyster that has a pearl and they bring up so many that have none only one penny to those poor people who make their employers rich that's atrocious on that note professor captain Nemo told me you and your companions will visit the Minar Oyster Bank and if by chance some eager fishermen arrives early, well, we can watch them at work that suits me captain by the way professor Aranax you aren't afraid of sharks are you sharks I exclaimed this struck me as a pretty needless question to say the least well captain Nemo went on I admit captain I'm not yet on very familiar terms with that genus of fish we're used to them the rest of us captain Nemo answered and in time you will be too anyhow we'll be armed and on our way we might hunt a man eater too it's a fascinating sport so professor I'll see you tomorrow bright and early this said in a carefree tone captain Nemo left the lounge if you're invited to hunt bears in the swiss mountains you might say oh good I get to go bear hunting tomorrow if you're invited to hunt lions on the atlas planes or tigers in the jungles of india you might say ha now is my chance to hunt lions and tigers but if you're invited to hunt sharks in their native element you might want to think it over before accepting as for me I passed a hand over my brow where beads of cold sweat were busy forming let's think this over I said to myself and let's take our time hunting otters in underwater forests as we did in the forests of Crespo island is an acceptable activity but to roam in the bottom of the sea when you're almost certain to meet man eaters in the neighborhood that's another story I know that in certain countries particularly the andaman islands negroes don't hesitate to attack sharks dagger in one hand and noose in the other but I also know that many who face those fearsome animals don't come back alive besides I'm not a negro and even if I were a negro in this instance I don't think a little hesitation on my part would be out of place and there I was fantasizing about sharks envisioning huge jaws armed with multiple rows of teeth and capable of cutting a man in half I could already feel a definite pain around my pelvic girdle and how I resented the offhand manner in which the captain had extended his deplorable invitation you would have thought it an issue of going into the woods on some harmless fox hunt thank heavens I said to myself consale will never want to come along and that will be my excuse for not going with the captain as for Ned land I admit I felt less confident of his wisdom danger, however great was his personal attraction for his aggressive nature I went back to reading sir's book but I leafed through it mechanically between the lines I kept seeing fearsome wide open jaws just then consale and the Canadian entered with a calm even gleeful air little did they know what was waiting for them ye gods sir Ned land told me your captain Nemo has just made us a very pleasant proposition oh I said you know about with all due respect to master consale replied the Nautilus's commander has invited us together with master for a visit tomorrow to Ceylon's magnificent pearl fisheries he did so in the most cordial terms and conducted himself like a true gentleman he didn't tell you anything else nothing sir the Canadian replied he said you'd already discussed this little stroll indeed I said but didn't he give you any details on not a one Mr. naturalist you will be going with us right me? why yes certainly of course I can see that you like the idea Mr. Land yes it will be a really unusual experience and possibly dangerous I added in an insinuating tone dangerous Ned land replied a simple trip to an oyster bank assuredly captain Nemo hadn't seen fit to plant the idea of sharks in the minds of my companions for my part I stared at them with anxious eyes as if they were already missing a limb or two should I alert them yes surely but I hardly knew how to go about it would master consail said to me give us some background on pearl fishing on the fishing itself I asked or on the occupational hazards that on the fishing the Canadian replied before we tackle the terrain it helps to be familiar with it all right sit down my friends and I'll teach you everything I myself have just been taught by the Englishman H. C. Sir Ned and consail took seats on the couch and right off the Canadian said to me Sir just what is a pearl exactly my gallant Ned replied for poets a pearl is a tear from the sea for Orientals is a drop of solidified dew for the ladies is a jewel that they can wear on their fingers necks and ears that's oblong in shape glassy and luster and formed from mother of pearl for chemists it's a mixture of calcium phosphate and calcium carbonate with a little gelatin protein and finally for naturalists it's a simple festering secretion from the organ that produces mother of pearl in certain bivalves branch molissa clas acephala tessacea correct my scholarly consail now then those tessacea capable of producing pearls include rainbow abalone turbo snails giant clams and saltwater scallops briefly all those that secrete mother of pearl in other words that blue azure, violet or white substance lining the insides of their valves are mussels included too? the Canadian asked yes the mussels of certain streams in Scotland, Wales Ireland, Saxony Bohemia and France good the Canadian replied from now on we'll pay closer attention to them but I went on for secreting pearls pearl mollusk is the pearl oyster meligrina margaritifera that valuable shellfish pearls result simply from mother of pearl solidifying into a globular shape either they stick to the oyster's shell or they become embedded in the creature's folds on the valves a pearl sticks fast on the flesh it lies loose but its nucleus is always some small hard object say a sterile egg or a grain of sand around which the mother of pearl is deposited in thin concentric layers over several years in succession can one find several pearls in the same oyster? Consell asked yes my boy there are even some shellfish that turn into real jewel coffers they even mention one oyster about which I remain dubious it literally contains at least 150 sharks 150 sharks Nedland yelped did I say sharks I exclaimed hastily I meant 150 pearls sharks wouldn't make sense indeed Consell said but will master now tell us how one goes about extracting these pearls one proceeds in several ways and often when pearls stick to the valves fishermen even pull them loose with pliers but usually the shellfish are spread out on mats made from asparto grass that covers the beaches thus they die in the open air and by the end of ten days they've rotted sufficiently next they're immersed in huge tanks of salt water then they're opened up and washed at this point the sorters begin their two fold task first they remove the layers of mother of pearl which are known in the industry by the names legitimate silver, bastard white or bastard black and then these are shipped out in cases weighing 125 to 150 kilograms then they remove the oyster's meaty tissue, boil it and finally strain it in order to extract even the smallest pearls do the prices of these pearls differ depending on their size? Consell asked not only on their size I replied but also according to their shape their water in other words water and their orient in other words that dappled shimmering glow that makes them so delightful to the eye the finest pearls are called virgin pearls or paragons they form an isolation within the mollusks tissue they're white often opaque but sometimes of opalescent transparency and usually spherical or pear shaped the spherical ones are made into bracelets the pear shaped ones into earrings they're the most valuable they're priced individually the other pearls that stick to the oyster's shell are more erratically shaped and are priced by weight finally, classed in the lowest order the smallest pearls are known by the name seed pearls they're priced by the measuring cup and are used mainly in the creation of embroidery for church vestments but it must be a long hard job sorting out these pearls by size the canadian said no my friend that task is performed with 11 strainers or sieves that are pierced with different numbers of holes those pearls staying in the strainers with 20 to 80 holes are in the first order those not slipping through the sieves pierced with 100 to 800 holes are in the second order finally, those pearls for which one uses strainers pierced with 900 to 1000 holes make up the seed pearls how ingenious consale said to reduce dividing and classifying pearls to a mechanical operation and could master tell us the profits brought in by harvesting these banks of pearl oysters according to sirs book, I replied these salon fisheries are farmed annually for a total profit of 3 million man-eaters francs consale rebuked 3 million francs I went on but I don't think these fisheries bring in the returns they once did similarly the Central American fisheries used to make an annual profit of 4 million francs during the reign of King Charles V but now they bring in only two-thirds of that amount all in all, it's estimated that 9 million francs is the current yearly return for the whole pearl harvesting industry but consale asked has one famous pearl been quoted at extremely high prices yes my boy they say Julius Caesar gave Servilia a pearl worth 1200,000 francs in our currency I've even heard stories the Canadian said about some lady in ancient times who drank pearls and vinegar Cleopatra consale shot back it must have tasted pretty bad Ned Land added abominable Ned my friend consale replied but when a little glass of vinegar is worth 1500,000 francs its taste is a small price to pay I'm sorry I didn't marry that gal the Canadian said throwing up his hands on the air of discouragement Ned Land married to Cleopatra consale exclaimed but I was all set to tie the knot consale the Canadian replied in all seriousness and it wasn't my fault the whole business fell through I even bought a pearl necklace for my fiance Kate Tender but she married somebody else instead well that necklace cost me only $1.50 but you can absolutely trust me on this professor its pearls were so big they wouldn't have gone through that strainer with 20 holes my gallant Ned I replied laughing those were artificial pearls ordinary glass beads whose insides were coated with essence of orient wow the Canadian replied that essence of orient must suffer quite a large sum as little as zero it comes from the scales of a European carp it's nothing more than a silver substance that collects in the water and is preserved in ammonia it's worthless maybe that's why Kate Tender married somebody else replied Mr. Land philosophically but I said getting back to pearls of great value I don't think any sovereign ever possessed one superior to the pearl owned by Captain Nemo this one? Consell said pointing to a magnificent jewel in its glass case exactly and I'm certainly not far off when I estimate its value at 2 million um Franks? Consell said quickly yes I said 2 million Franks and no doubt all it cost our captain our effort to pick it up Ha! Ned Land exclaimed during our stroll to-morrow who says we won't run into one just like it Bah! Consell put in and why not what good would a pearl worth millions do us here on the Nautilus here no Ned Land said but elsewhere oh elsewhere Consell put in, shaking his head right and if we ever brought back to Europe or America a pearl worth millions it would make the story of our adventures more authentic and much more rewarding that's how I see it the Canadian said but said Consell who perpetually returned to the didactic side of things is this pearl fishing ever dangerous no I replied quickly especially if one takes certain precautions what risks would you run in a job like that Ned Land said swallowing a few gulps of salt water what have you say Ned then trying to imitate Captain Nemo's carefree tone I asked by the way Gallant Ned are you afraid of sharks me the Canadian replied I'm a professional harpooner it's my job to make a mockery of them it isn't an issue I said before them with a swivel hook hoisting them onto a deck of a ship chopping off the tail with a sweep of an axe opening the belly ripping out the heart and tossing it into the sea so it's an issue of yes precisely in the water ye gods just give me a good harpoon you see sir these sharks are badly designed they have to roll their bellies over to snap you up and in the meantime Ned Land had a way of pronouncing the word snap that sent chills down my spine well how about you consale what are your feelings about these man-eaters me consale said I'm afraid I must be frank with master good for you I thought if master faces these sharks consale said I think his loyal man servant should face them with him and end of chapter 2 recorded by Michael Karnwright October 4th, 2006 Albuquerque, New Mexico this is a LibriVox recording all LibriVox recordings are in the public domain for more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org recording by Paul Gabriel Wiener 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea by Jules Verne second part chapter 3 a pearl worth 10 million night fell I went to bed I slept pretty poorly man-eaters played a major role in my dreams and I found it more or less appropriate that the French word shark, requin has its linguistic roots in the word requiem the next day at four o'clock in the morning I was awakened by the steward whom Captain Nemo had placed expressly at my service I got up quickly, dressed, and went into the lounge Captain Nemo was waiting for me Professor Aranax he said to me are you ready to start I'm ready kindly follow me what about my companions Captain they've been alerted and are waiting for us aren't we going to put on our diving suits I asked not yet I haven't let the Nautilus pull too near the coast and we're fairly well out from the manor Oyster Bank but I have the skiff ready and it will take us to the exact spot where world is embark it's carrying our diving equipment and we'll suit up just before we begin our underwater exploring Captain Nemo took me to the central companion way whose steps led to the platform Ned and Concey were there enraptured with the pleasure trip getting underway Ores in position five of the Nautilus's sailors were waiting for us aboard the skiff which was moored alongside the night was still dark layers of clouds cloaked the sky and left only a few stars in view my eyes flew to the side where land lay but I saw only a blurred line covering three quarters of the horizon from southwest to northwest going up Salon's west coast during the night the Nautilus lay west of the bay or rather that gulf formed by the mainland and Manor Island under these dark waters there stretched the bank of shellfish in a field of pearls more than 20 miles long Captain Nemo Concey, Ned Land and I found seats in the stern of the skiff the long boat's coxswain took the tiller his four companions leaned into their oars the moorings were cast off and we pulled clear the skiff headed southward the oarsmen took their time I watched their strokes vigorously catch the water and they always waited 10 seconds before rowing again following the practice used in most navies while the long boat coasted drops of liquid flicked from the oars and hit the dark troughs of the waves pitter pattering like splashes of molten lead coming from well out a mild swell made the skiff roll gently and a few cresting billows lapped at its bow we were silent what was Captain Nemo thinking perhaps that this approaching shore was too close for comfort for the Canadian's views in which it still seemed too far away as for Concey he had come along out of simple curiosity near 530 the first glimmers of light on the horizon defined the upper lines of the coast with greater distinctness fairly flat to the east it swelled a little towards the south five miles still separated it from us and its beach merged with the misty waters between us and the shore the sea was deserted by a diver profound solitude reigned over this gathering place of Pearl Fishermen as Captain Nemo had commented we were arriving in these waterways a month too soon at six o'clock the day broke suddenly with that speed unique to tropical regions which experienced no real dawn or dusk the sun's rays pierced the cloud curtain gathered on the easterly horizon and the radiant orb rose swiftly I could clearly see the shore which featured a few sparse trees here and there the skiff advanced towards Manor Island which curved to the south Captain Nemo stood up from his thwart and studied the sea at his signal the anchor was lowered but its chain barely ran because the bottom lay no more than a meter down and this locality was one of the shallowest spots near the bank of shellfish instantly the skiff wheeled around under the ebb tide's outbound thrust here we are, Professor Aranax Captain Nemo then said you observe this confined bay a month from now in this very place the numerous fishing boats of the harvesters will gather and these are the waters their divers will ransack so daringly this bay is felicitously laid out for their type of fishing it's sheltered from the strongest winds and the sea is never very turbulent here highly favorable conditions for diving work now let's put on our underwater suits and we'll begin our stroll I didn't reply and while staring at these suspicious waves I began to put on my heavy aquatic clothes helped by the longboat sailors Captain Nemo and his two companions suited up as well none of the Nautilus's men were to go with us on this new excursion soon we were imprisoned up to the neck in India rubber clothing and straps fastened the air devices on to our backs as for the rookmorph device it didn't seem to be in the picture before inserting my head into its copter capsule I commented on this to the captain our lighting equipment will be useless to us the captain assured me we won't be going very deep and the sun's rays will be sufficient to light our way besides it's unwise to carry electric lanterns under these waves their brightness might unexpectedly attract certain dangerous occupants of these waterways as Captain Nemo pronounced these words I turned to Kolse and Ned Land but my two friends had already encased their craniums in their metal headgear and they could neither hear nor reply I had one question left to address to Captain Nemo what about our weapons I asked him our rifles rifles what for don't your mountaineers attack bears dagger in hand and isn't steel sure than lead here's a sturdy blade off I stared at my companions they were armed in the same fashion and Ned Land was also brandishing an enormous harpoon he had stowed in the skiff before leaving the Nautilus then following the captain's example I let myself be crowned with my heavy copper sphere and our air tanks immediately went into action an instant later the longboat sailors helped us overboard one after the other and we set foot on level sand in a meter and a half of water Captain Nemo gave us a hand signal we followed him down a gentle slope and disappeared under the waves there the obsessive veers in my brain left me I became surprisingly calm again the ease with which I could move increased my confidence and the many strange sights captivated my imagination the sun was already sending sufficient light under these waves the tiniest objects remained visible after ten minutes of walking we were in five meters of water almost flat like a covey of snipe over a marsh there rose underfoot schools of unusual fish from the genus Monopterus whose members have no fin but their tail I recognized the Javanese eel a genuine eight-desimeter serpent with the bluish gray belly which without the gold lines over its flanks could easily be confused with the conger eel from the Butterfish genus whose oval bodies are very flat I observed several adorned and brilliant colors and sporting a dorsal fin like a sickle edible fish that, when dried and marinated made an excellent dish known by the name carawad then some sea poachers fish belonging to the genus Aspidophoridos whose bodies are covered with scale the armor divided into eight lengthwise sections meanwhile as the sun got progressively higher it lit up the watery mass more and more the sea floor changed little by little its fine grain sand followed by a genuine causeway of smooth crags covered by a carpet of mollusks and zoofights among other specimens in these two branches I noticed some window-pane oysters within valves of unequal size a type of ostracod unique to the Red Sea and the Indian Ocean then orange-hued lucina with circular shells all-shaped auger shells some of those Persian murex snails that supply the nautilus with such wonderful dye spiky peri-winkles 15 centimeters long that rose under the waves like hands ready to grab you turban snails with shells made of horn and bristling all over with spines lamp shells edible duck clams that feed the Hindu marketplace subtly luminous jellyfish of the species Pelagia panopuria and finally some wonderful oculina flabilia forma magnificent sea fans that fashion one of the most luxuriant tree forms in this ocean in the midst of this moving vegetation under arbors of water plants they're race legions of clumsy articulates in particular some fanged frog crabs whose carapaces form a slightly rotund triangle robber crabs exclusive to these waterways and horrible parthenope crabs whose appearance was repulsive to the eye one animal no less hideous which I encountered several times was the enormous crab that Mr. Darwin observed to which nature has given the instinct and requisite strength to eat coconuts it scrambles up trees on the beach and sends the coconuts tumbling they fracture in their fall and are opened by its powerful pincers here under these clear waves this crab raced around with matchless agility while green turtles from the species frequenting the Malabar coast move sluggishly among the crumbling rocks near seven o'clock we finally surveyed the bank of shellfish oysters reproduced by the millions these valuable mollusks stick to rocks where they're strongly attached by a massive brown filaments that forbids their moving about in this respect oysters are inferior even to mussels to whom nature has not denied all talent for locomotion the shellfish melly greener that womb for pearls whose valves are nearly equal in size has the shape of a round shell with thick walls in a very rough exterior some of these shells were furrowed by the Spanish bands that radiated down from the top these were the young oysters the others had rugged black surfaces measured up to 15 centimeters in width and were 10 or more years old Captain Nemo pointed to this prodigious heap of shellfish and I saw that these mines were genuinely inexhaustible since nature's creative powers are greater than man's destructive instincts true to those instincts Ned land greedily stuffed the finest of these mollusks into a net he carried at his side but we couldn't stop we had to follow the captain who headed down trail seemingly known only to himself the sea floor rose noticeably and when I lifted my arm sometimes they would pass above the surface of the sea then the level of the oyster bank would lower unpredictably often we went around tall pointed rocks rising like pyramids in their dark crevices huge crustaceans aiming their long legs like heavy artillery watched us with unblinking eyes while underfoot there crept millipedes, bloodworms, or ratio worms, and anilid worms whose antennas and tubular tentacles were incredibly long just then a huge cave opened up in our path hollowed from a picturesque pile of rocks whose smooth heights were completely hung with underwater flora at first this cave looked pitch black to me inside the sun's rays seemed to diminish by degrees their hazy transparency was nothing more than drowned light captain Nemo went in we followed him, my eyes soon grew accustomed to this comparative gloom I distinguished the unpredictably contoured springings of a vault supported by natural pillars firmly based on a granite foundation like the weighty columns of Tuscan architecture why had our incomprehensible guide taken us into the depths of this underwater crypt? I would soon find out after going down a fairly steep slope our feet trod the floor of a sort of circular pit there captain Nemo stopped and his hand indicated an object that I hadn't yet noticed it was an oyster of extraordinary dimensions, a titanic giant clam, a holy water font that could have held a whole lake a basin more than two meters wide hence even bigger than the one adorning the Nautilus's lounge I approached this phenomenal mollusk its massive filaments attached it to a table of granite and there it grew by itself in the midst of the cave's calm waters I estimated the weight of this giant clam at 300 kilograms hence such an oyster held 15 kilos of meat and you'd need the stomach of King Gargantua to eat a couple dozen captain Nemo was obviously familiar with this bivalve's existence this wasn't the first time he'd paid it a visit and I thought his sole reason for leading us to this locality was to show us a natural curiosity I was mistaken captain Nemo had an explicit personal interest in checking on the current condition of this giant clam the mollusk's two valves were partly open the captain approached and stuck his dagger vertically between the shells to discourage any ideas about closing then with his hands he raised the fringed membrane-filled tunic that made up the animal's mantle there between its leaf-like folds I saw a loose pearl as big as a coconut its globular shape perfect clarity and wonderful orient made it a jewel of incalculable value carried away by curiosity I stretched out my hand to take it weigh it fondle it but the captain stopped me signaled no removed his dagger in one swift motion and let the two valves snap shut I then understood captain Nemo's intent by leaving the pearl buried beneath the giant clam's mantle he allowed it to grow imperceptibly with each passing here the mollusks secretions added new concentric layers the captain alone was familiar with the cave where this wonderful fruit of nature was ripening he alone reared it so to speak in order to transfer it one day to his dearly beloved museum perhaps following the examples of oyster farmers in China and India he had even predetermined the creation of this pearl by sticking under the mollusks folds some piece of glass or metal that was gradually covered in mother of pearl in any case comparing this pearl to others I already knew about and to those shimmering in the captain's collection I estimated that it was worth at least 10 million francs it was a superb natural curiosity rather than a luxurious piece of jewelry because I don't know of any female year that could handle it our visit to this opulent giant clam came to an end captain Nemo left the cave and reclaimed back up the bank of shellfish in the midst of these clear waters not yet disturbed by divers at work we walked by ourselves genuine loiterers stopping or straying as our eyes dictated for my part I was no longer worried about those dangers my imagination had so ridiculously exaggerated the shallows drew noticeably closer to the surface of the sea and soon walking in only a meter of water my head passed well above the level of the ocean can say rejoined me and gluing his huge copper capsule to mine his eyes gave me a friendly greeting but this lofty plateau measured only a few fathoms and soon we re-entered our element I think I've now earned the right to dub it that ten minutes later captain Nemo stopped suddenly I thought he called a halt so that we could turn and start back no with a gesture he ordered us to crouch beside him at the foot of a wide crevice his hand motioned toward a spot within the liquid mass and I looked carefully five meters away a shadow appeared and dropped to the sea floor the alarming idea of sharks crossed my mind but I was mistaken and once again I didn't have to deal with monsters of the deep it was a man a living man a black indian fisherman a poor devil who no doubt had come together what he could before harvest time I saw the bottom of his dinghy moored a few feet above his head he would dive and go back up in quick succession a stone cut in the shape of a sugar-loaf which he gripped between his feet while a rope connected it to his boat served to lower him more quickly to the ocean floor to the extent of his equipment arriving on the sea floor at a depth of about five meters he fell to his knees and stuffed his sack with shellfish gathered at random then he went back up emptied his sack pulled up his stone and started all over again the whole process lasting only 30 seconds the stiver didn't see us a shadow cast by our crag hit us from his view and besides how could this poor indian ever have guessed that human beings like himself were near him under the waters eavesdropping on his movements not missing a single detail of his fishing so he went up and down several times he gathered only about ten shellfish per dive because he had to tear them from the banks where each clung with its tough mass of filaments and how many of these oysters for which he risked his life would have no pearl in them I observed him with great care his movements were systematically executed and for half an hour no danger seemed to threaten him so I had gotten used to the sight of this fascinating fisherman when all at once just as the indian was kneeling on the sea floor I saw him make a frightened gesture stand and gather himself to spring back to the surface of the waves I understood his fear a gigantic shadow appeared above the poor diver it was a shark of huge size moving in diagonally eyes ablaze jaws wide open I was speechless with horror to make a single movement with one vigorous stroke of its fins the voracious animal shot toward the indian who jumped aside and avoided the shark's bite but not the thrashing of its tail because that tail struck him across the chest and stretched him out on the sea floor this scene lasted barely a few seconds the shark returned rolled over on its back and was getting ready to cut the indian in half when captain Nemo who was stationed beside me suddenly stood up then he strode right towards the monster dagger in hand ready to fight it at close quarters just as it was about to snap up the poor fisherman the man-eater saw its new adversary repositioned itself on its belly and headed swiftly toward him I can see captain Nemo's bearings to this day bracing himself he waited for the fearsome man-eater with wonderful composure and when the latter rushed at him the captain leaped aside with prodigious quickness avoided a collision and sank his dagger into its belly but that wasn't the end of the story a dreadful battle was joined the shark bellowed, so to speak blood was pouring into the waves from its wounds the sea was dyed red and through this opaque liquid I could see nothing else nothing else until the moment when through a rift in the clouds I saw the daring captain clinging to one of the animal's fins fighting the monster at close quarters belaboring his enemy's belly with stabs of the dagger yet unable to deliver the deciding thrust in other words, a direct hit to the heart and it struggles the man-eater churned the watery mass so furiously its eddies threatened to knock me over I wanted to run to the captain's rescue but I was transfixed with horror unable to move I stared wild-eyed I saw the fight enter a new phase the captain fell to the sea floor toppled by the enormous mass weighing him down then the shark's jaws opened astonishingly wide a pair of industrial shears and that would have been the finish of Captain Nemo had not Ned Land, quick as thought rushed forward with his harpoon and driven its dreadful point into the shark's underside the waves were saturated with masses of blood the waters shook with the movements of the man-eater which thrashed about with indescribable fury Ned Land hadn't missed his target this was the monster's death-rattle pierced to the heart it was struggling with dreadful spasms whose aftershocks knocked Kalsay off his feet meanwhile Ned Land pulled the captain clear uninjured the latter stood up went right to the Indian quickly cut the rope binding the man to his stone took the fellow in his arms and with a vigorous kick of the heel rose to the surface of the sea the three of us followed him and a few moments later miraculously safe we reached the fisherman's longboat Captain Nemo's first concern was to revive this unfortunate man before he would succeed I hope so since the poor devil hadn't been under very long but that stroke from the shark's tail could have been his death-blow fortunately after vigorous massaging by Kalsay and the captain I saw the nearly-drowned man regain consciousness little by little he opened his eyes how startled he must have felt how frightened even at seeing four huge copper craniums leaning over him and above all what must he have thought in his pocket in his diving suit and placed it in the fisherman's hands this magnificent benefaction from the man of the waters to the poor Indian from Ceylon was accepted by the latter with trembling hands his bewildered eyes indicated that he didn't know to what superhuman creatures he owed both his life and his fortune at the captain's signal we returned to the bank of shellfish and retracing our steps we walked for half an hour until we encountered the anchor connecting the sea floor with the noddles' skiff back on board the sailors helped divest us of our heavy copper carapaces captain Nemo's first words were spoken to the Canadian thank you Mr. Land he told him tit for tat captain Ned Land replied I owed it to you the ghost of a smile glided across the captain's lips and that was all to the nautilus he said the longboat flew over the waves a few minutes later we encountered a shark's corpse again, floating from the black markings on the tips of its fins I recognized the dreadful squalus melanopterus from the seas of the East Indies a variety in the species of sharks proper it was more than 25 feet long its enormous mouth occupied a third of its body it was an adult as could be seen from the six rows of teeth forming an isosceles triangle in its upper jaw Conce looked at it with purely scientific fascination and I'm sure he placed it not without good reason in the class of cartilaginous fish order chondroptorigia with fixed gills family cilacea genus squalus while I was contemplating this inert mass suddenly a dozen of these meracious melanopterus appeared around our longboat but paying no attention to us they pounced on the corpse and quarreled over every scrap of it by 8.30 we were back on board the nautilus I fell to thinking about the incidents that marked our excursion over the Manarch Oyster Bank two impressions inevitably stood out one concerned Captain Nemo's matchless bravery the other his devotion to a human being a representative of that race from which he had fled beneath the seas in spite of everything this strange man hadn't yet succeeded in completely stifling his heart when I shared these impressions with him he answered me in a tone touched with emotion that Indian professor lives in the land of the oppressed and I am to this day and will be until my last breath a native of that same land End of Chapter 3 Recording by Paul Gabriel Wiener East Brunswick, New Jersey September 2006