 This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea by Jules Verne Part 2, Chapter 9 A Lost Continent The next morning, February 19, I beheld the Canadian entering my stateroom. I was expecting this visit. He wore an expression of great disappointment. Well, sir, he said to me. Well, Ned, the fates were against us yesterday. Yes, that damned captain had to call a halt just as we were going to escape from his boat. Yes, Ned, he had business with his bankers. His bankers? Or rather, his bank faults, by which I mean this ocean where his wealth is safer than in any national treasury. I then related the evening's incidents to the Canadian, secretly hoping he would come around to the idea of not deserting the captain. But my narrative had no result other than Ned's voicing deep regret that he hadn't strolled across the Vigo battlefield on his own behalf. Anyhow, he said, it's not over yet. My first harpoon missed. That's all. We'll succeed the next time, and as soon as this evening, if need be. What's the Nautilus's heading? I asked. I've no idea, Ned replied. All right, at noon we'll find out what our position is. The Canadian returned to Concey aside. As soon as I was dressed, I went into the lounge. The compass wasn't encouraging. The Nautilus's course was south-southwest. We were turning our backs on Europe. I could hardly wait until our position was reported on the chart. After eleven-thirty, the ballast tanks emptied and the submersible rose to the surface of the ocean. I leaped onto the platform. Nedland was already there. No more shore in sight. Nothing but the immenseness of the sea. A few sails were on the horizon. No doubt ships going as far as Cape Sail rogue defined favourable winds for doubling the Cape of Good Hope. The sky was overcast. A squall was on the way. Ned tried to see through the mist on the horizon. He still hoped that behind all that fog there lay those shores he longed for. At noon, the sun made a momentary appearance. Taking advantage of this rift in the clouds, the chief officer took the orbs' altitude. Then the sea grew turbulent. We went below again, and the hatch closed once more. When I consulted the chart an hour later, I saw that the Nautilus's position was marked at longitude sixteen degrees, seventeen minutes, and latitude thirty-three degrees, twenty-two minutes, a good one hundred and fifty leagues from the nearest coast. It wouldn't do to even dream of escaping, and I'll let the reader decide how promptly the Canadian threw a tantrum when I ventured to tell him our situation. As for me, I wasn't exactly grief-stricken. I felt as if a heavy weight had been lifted from me, and I was able to resume my regular tasks in a state of comparative calm. Near eleven o'clock in the evening, I received a most unexpected visit from Captain Nemo. He asked me very graciously if I felt exhausted from our vigil the night before. I said no. Then, Professor Aaron X, I propose an unusual excursion. Propose away, Captain. So far you've visited the ocean depths only by day and under sunlight. Would you like to see these depths on a dark night? Very much. I warn you, this will be an exhausting stroll. We'll need to walk long hours and scale a mountain. The roads aren't terribly well kept up. Everything you say, Captain, just increases my curiosity. I'm ready to go with you. Then come along, Professor, and we'll go put on our diving suits. Arriving at the wardrobe, I saw that neither my companions nor any crewmen would be coming with us on this excursion. Captain Nemo hadn't even suggested my fetching net or con se. In a few moments we had put on our equipment. Air tanks abundantly charged were placed on our backs, but the electric lamps were not in readiness. I commented on this to the Captain. They'll be useless to us, he replied. I thought I hadn't heard him right, but I couldn't repeat my comment because the Captain's head had already disappeared into its metal covering. I finished harnessing myself, I felt an Alpenstock being placed in my hand, and a few minutes later, after the usual procedures, we set foot on the floor of the Atlantic, 300 meters down. Midnight was approaching. The waters were profoundly dark, but Captain Nemo pointed to a reddish spot in the distance, a sort of wide glow shimmering about two miles from the Nautilus. What this fire was, what substances fed it, how and why it kept burning in the liquid mass, I couldn't say. Anyhow it led our way, although hazily, but I soon grew accustomed to this unique gloom, and in these circumstances I understood the uselessness of the room-corp device. Side by side Captain Nemo and I walked directly towards this conspicuous flame. The level seafloor rose imperceptibly. We took long strides helped by our Alpenstocks, but in general our progress was slow because our feet kept sinking into a kind of slimy mud mixed with seaweed and assorted flat stones. As we moved forward I heard a kind of pitter-patter above my head. Sometimes this noise increased and became a continuous crackle. I soon realized the cause. It was a heavy rainfall rattling on the surface of the waves. Instinctively I worried that I might get soaked. By water in the midst of water. I couldn't help smiling at this outlandish notion, but to tell the truth, wearing these heavy diving suits, you no longer feel the liquid element. You simply think you're in the midst of air a little denser than air on land, that's all. After half an hour of walking the seafloor grew rocky. Jellyfish, microscopic crustaceans, and sea-pan coral lit it faintly with their phosphorescent glimmers. I glimpsed piles of stones covered by a couple of million zuthites and tangles of algae. My feet often slipped on this viscous seaweed carpet, and without my alpinstock I would have fallen more than once. When I turned around I could still see the nautilus' whitish beacon, which was starting to grow pale in the distance. Those piles of stones just mentioned were laid out on the ocean floor with a distinct but inexplicable symmetry. I spotted gigantic furrows trailing off into the distant darkness, their length incalculable. There also were other peculiarities I couldn't make sense of. It seemed to me that my heavy lead shoes were crushing a litter of bones that made a dry, crackling noise. So what were these vast plains we were now crossing? I wanted to ask the captain, but I still didn't grasp that sign language that allowed him to chat with his companions when they went with him on his underwater excursions. Meanwhile the reddish light guiding us had expanded and inflamed the horizon. The presence of this furnace under the waters had me extremely puzzled. Was it some sort of electrical discharge? Was I approaching some natural phenomenon still unknown to scientists on shore? Or rather, and this thought did cross my mind. Had the hand of man intervened in that place? Had human beings fanned those flames? In these deep strata would I meet up with more of Captain Nemo's companions, friends he was about to visit who led lives as strange as his own? Would I find a whole colony of exiles down here? Men tired of the world's woes? Men who had sought and found independence in the ocean's lower depths? All these insane, inadmissible ideas dogged me, and in this frame of mind continually excited by the series of wonders passing before my eyes I wouldn't have been surprised to find on this sea-bottom one of those underwater towns Captain Nemo dreamed about. Our path was getting brighter and brighter. The red glow had turned white and was radiating from a mountain peak about 800 feet high. But what I saw was simply a reflection produced by the crystal waters of these strata, the furnace that was the source of this inexplicable light, occupied the far side of the mountain. In the midst of the stone maces furrowing this Atlantic sea-floor, Captain Nemo moved forward without hesitation. He knew this dark path. No doubt he had often traveled it and was incapable of losing his way. I followed him with unshakable confidence. He seemed like some spirit of the sea, and as he walked ahead of me, I marveled at his tall figure, which stood out in black against the glowing background of the horizon. It was one o'clock in the morning. We arrived at the mountain's lower gradients, but in grappling with them we had to venture up difficult trails through a huge thicket. Yes, a thicket of dead trees. Trees without leaves, without sap, turned to stone by the action of the waters and crowned here and there by gigantic pines. It was like a still erect coal field, its roots clutching broken soil, its boughs clearly outlined against the ceiling of the waters, like thin black paper cutouts. Picture a forest clinging to the sides of a peak in the harsh mountains, but a submerged forest. The trails were cluttered with algae and fucous plants, hosts of crustaceans swarming among them. I plunged on, scaling rocks, straddling fallen tree trunks, snapping marine creepers that swayed from one tree to another, startling the fish that flitted from branch to branch. Carried away, I didn't feel exhausted any more. I followed a guide who was immune to exhaustion. What a sight! How can I describe it? How can I portray these woods and rocks in this liquid setting, their lower parts dark and sullen, their upper parts tinted red in this light whose intensity was doubled by the reflecting power of the waters? We scaled rocks that crumbled beneath us, collapsing in enormous sections with the hollow rumble of an avalanche. To our right and left there were carved gloomy galleries where the eye lost its way. Huge glades opened up, seemingly cleared by the hand of man, but sometimes wondered whether some residents of these underwater regions would suddenly appear before me. But Captain Nemo kept climbing. I didn't want to fall behind. I followed him boldly. My Alpenstock was a great help. One wrong step would have been disastrous on the narrow paths cut into the sides of these chasms, but I walked along with a firm tread and without the slightest feeling of dizziness. Sometimes I leaped over a crevasse whose depth would have made me recoil had I been in the midst of glaciers on shore. Sometimes I ventured out on a wobbling tree trunk fallen across the gorge without looking down, having eyes only for marveling at the wild scenery of this region. There, leaning on erratically cut foundations, monumental rocks seemed to defy the laws of balance. From between their stony knees, trees sprang up like jets under fearsome pressure, supporting other trees that supported them in turn. Next, natural towers with wide, steeply carved battlements leaned at angles that on dry land the laws of gravity would never have authorized. An eye too could feel the difference created by the water's powerful density. Despite my heavy clothing, copper headpiece, and metal soles, I climbed the most impossibly steep gradients with all the nimbleness I swear it of a chamois or a Pyrenees mountain goat. As for my account of this excursion under the waters, I'm well aware that it sounds incredible. I'm the chronicler of deeds seemingly impossible and yet incontestably real. This was no fantasy. This was what I saw and felt. Two hours after leaving the Nautilus we had cleared the Timberline, and one hundred feet above our head stood the mountain peak, forming a dark silhouette against the brilliant glare that came from its far slope. Petrified shrubs rambled here and there in sprawling zig-zags. I could hear fish rows in a body at our feet, like birds startled in tall grass. The rocky mass was gouged with impenetrable crevices, deep caves, unfathomable holes, at whose far ends I could hear fearsome things moving around. My blood would curdle as I watched some enormous antenna bar my path, or saw some frightful pincers snap shut in the shadow of some cavity. A thousand specks of light glittered in the midst of the gloom. Tentations crouching in their lairs, giant lobsters rearing up like spear carriers, and moving their claws with a sharp iron clanking, titanic crabs aiming their bodies like cannons on their carriages, and hideous devilfish intertwining their tentacles like bushes of writhing snakes. What was this astounding world that I didn't yet know? In what order did these articulates belong, these creatures for which the rocks provided a second carapace? Where had nature learned the secret of their vegetating existence, and for how many centuries had they lived in the ocean's lower strata? But I couldn't linger. Captain Nemo, unfamiliar terms with these dreadful animals, no longer minded them. We arrived at a preliminary plateau where still other surprises were waiting for me. Their picturesque ruins took shape, betraying the hand of man, not our creator. They were huge stacks of stones in which you could distinguish the indistinct forms of palaces and temples, now arrayed in hosts of blossoming zoofights, and over it all, not ivy, but a heavy mantle of algae and fucous plants. But what part of the globe could this be? This land swallowed by cataclysms. Who had set up these rocks and stones like the dolmens of prehistoric times? Where was I? Where had Captain Nemo's fancies taken me? I wanted to ask him. Unable to, I stopped him. I seized his arm, but he shook his head, pointed to the mountain's topmost peak, and seemed to tell me, come on, come with me, come higher. I followed him with one last burst of energy, and in a few minutes I had scaled the peak, which crowned the whole rocky mass by some ten meters. I looked back down the side we had just cleared. There the mountain rose only 700 to 800 feet above the plains. But on its far slope it crowned the receding bottom of this part of the Atlantic by a height twice that. My eyes scanned the distance and took in a vast area lit by intense flashes of light. In essence this mountain was a volcano. Fifty feet below its peak, amid a shower of stones and slag, a wide crater vomited torrents of lava that were dispersed in fiery cascades into the heart of the liquid mass. So situated this volcano was an immense torch that lit up the lower plains all the way to the horizon. As I said, this underwater crater spewed lava, but not flames. Flames need oxygen from the air and are unable to spread underwater. But a lava flow, which contains in itself the principle of its incandescence, can rise to a white heat, overpower the liquid element, and turn it into steam on contact. Swift currents swept away all this diffused gas, and torrents of lava slid to the foot of the mountain, like the disgorging of a Mount Vesuvius over the city limits of a second Torre del Greco. In fact, there beneath my eyes was a town in ruins. Demolished, overwhelmed, laid low. Its roofs caved in, its temples pulled down, its arches dislocated, its columns stretching over the earth. In these ruins you could still detect the solid proportions of a sort of Tuscan architecture. Farther off, there remains of a gigantic aqueduct. Here, the cake-tights of an acropolis, along with the fluid forms of a Parthenon. There, the remnants of a wharf, as if some by-gun port had long ago harbored merchant vessels and triple-tiered war-gallies on the shores of some lost ocean. Still farther off, long rows of collapsing walls, deserted thoroughfares, a whole Pompeii buried under the waters, which Captain Nemo had resurrected before my eyes. Where was I? Where was I? I had to find out at all cost. I wanted to speak. I wanted to rip off the copper sphere imprisoning my head. But Captain Nemo came over and stopped me with a gesture. Then, picking up a piece of chalky stone, he advanced to a black basaltic rock and scrawled this one word, Atlantis. What lightning flashed through my mind? Atlantis, that ancient land of Moropus, mentioned by the historian Theopompus, Plato's Atlantis. The continent whose very existence has been denied by such philosophers and scientists as Oregon, Papyri, Iamblichus, Danville, Malta-Brun, and Humboldt, who entered its disappearance in the ledger of myths and folktales. The country whose reality has nevertheless been accepted by other such thinkers as Posidonius, Pliny, Amianus, Marcellinus, Tertullian, Engel, Scherer, Thunfort, Tufan, and Davazac. I had this land right under my eyes, furnishing its own unimpeachable evidence of the catastrophe that had overtaken it. So this was the submerged region that had existed outside Europe, Asia, and Libya, beyond the pillars of Hercules, home of those powerful Atlantean people against whom ancient Greece had waged its earliest wars. The writer whose narratives record the lofty deeds of those heroic times is Plato himself. His dialogues, Timaeus and Cretius, were drafted with the poet and legislator Solon as their inspiration, as it were. One day Solon was conversing with some elderly wise men in the Egyptian capital of Seis, a town already 8,000 years of age, as documented by the annals engraved on the sacred walls of its temples. One of these elders related the history of another town, 1,000 years older still. This original city of Athens, 90 centuries old, had been invaded and partly destroyed by the Atlanteans. These Atlanteans, he said, resided on an immense continent greater than Africa and Asia combined, taking in an area that lay between latitude 12 degrees and 40 degrees north. Their dominion extended even to Egypt. They tried to enforce their rule as far as Greece, but they had to wait before the indomitable resistance of the Hellenic people. Centuries passed, a cataclysm occurred, floods, earthquakes. A single night and day were enough to obliterate this Atlantis, whose highest peaks, Madeira, the Azores, the Canaries, the Cape Verde Islands, still emerge above the waves. These were the historical memories that Captain Nemo's scrawl sent rushing through my mind. Thus, led by the strangest of fates, I was treading underfoot one of the mountains of that continent. My hands were touching ruins many thousands of years old, contemporary with prehistoric times. I was walking in the very place where contemporaries of early man had walked. My heavy souls were crushing the skeletons of animals from the Age of Fable, animals that used to take cover in the shade of these trees, now turned to stone. Oh, why was I so short of time? I would have gone down the steep slopes of the mountain, crossed this entire immense continent, which surely connects Africa with America, and visited its great prehistoric cities. Under my eyes there perhaps lay the warlike town of Makamos, or the pious village of Yusebis, whose gigantic inhabitants lived for whole centuries and had the strength to raise blocks of stone that still withstood the action of the waters. One day perhaps some volcanic phenomenon will bring these sunken ruins back to the surface of the waves. Numerous underwater volcanoes have been sighted in this part of the ocean, and many ships have felt terrific tremors when passing over these turbulent depths. A few have heard hollow noises that announced some struggle of the elements far below. Others have hauled in volcanic ash hurled above the waves. As far as the equator this whole sea floor is still under construction by plutonic forces, and in some remote epic built up by volcanic discourgings and successive layers of lava who knows whether the peaks of these fire-belching mountains may reappear above the surface of the Atlantic. As I am used in this way trying to establish in my memory every detail of this impressive landscape Captain Nemo was leaning his elbows on a moss-covered monument, motionless as if petrified in some mute trance. Was he dreaming of those lost generations asking them for the secret of human destiny? Was it here that this strange man came to revive himself, basking in historical memories, reliving that bygone life he who had no desire for our modern one? I would have given anything to know his thoughts to share them, understand them. We stayed in this place an entire hour, contemplating its vast plains in the Lava's Glow in a startling intensity. Inner boiling sent quick shivers running through the mountain's crust. Noises from deep underneath clearly transmitted by the liquid medium reverberated with majestic amplitude. Just then the moon appeared for an instant through the watery mass, casting a few pale rays over this submerged continent. It was only a fleeting glimmer, but its effect was indescribable. The Captain stood up on the plains, then his hand signaled me to follow him. We went swiftly down the mountain. Once past the petrified forest I could see the Nautilus's beacon twinkling like a star. The Captain walked straight toward it and we were back on board just as the first glimmers of dawn were whitening the surface of the ocean. End of Part 2 Chapter 9 Recorded by Joanne M. Smallhair February 2007 Yardley, Pennsylvania This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org Recorded by West Winds 12 20,000 Leagues Under the Seas by Jules Verne Second Part Chapter 10 The Underwater Coal Fields The next day February 20th I overslept. I was exhausted from the night before. I didn't get up until 11 o'clock. I dressed quickly. I hurried to find out the Nautilus's heading. The instruments indicated that it was running southward at a speed of 20 miles per hour in a depth of 100 meters. Conceal entered. I described our nocturnal excursion to him. And since the panels were open he could still catch a glimpse of this submerged continent. In fact, the Nautilus was skimming only 10 meters over the soil of this Atlantis plane. This ship scutted along like an air balloon born by the wind over some prairie on land. But it would be more accurate to say that we sat in a lounge as if we were riding in a coach on an express train. As for the foregrounds passing before our eyes, they were fantastically carved rocks, forests of trees that had crossed over from the vegetable kingdom into the mineral kingdom, their motionless silhouettes sprawling beneath the waves. There also were stony masses buried beneath carpets of exidia and sea anemone bristling with long vertical water plants, then strangely contoured blocks of lava that testified to all the fury of those plutonic developments. While this bizarre scenery was glittering under our electric beams, I told Conceal the story of the Atlanteans who had inspired the old French scientist Jean Bailey to write so many entertaining, albeit utterly fictitious, pages. I told the lad about the wars of these heroic people. I discussed the question of Atlantis with the fervor of a man who no longer had any doubts. But Conceal was so distracted he barely heard me and his lack of interest in any commentary on this historical topic was soon explained. In essence, numerous fish had caught his eye and when fish passed by Conceal vanishes into his world of classifying and leaves real life behind, in which case I could only tag along and resume our ec theological research. Even so, these Atlantic fish were not noticeably different from those we had observed earlier. There were rays of gigantic size, five meters long with muscles so powerful they could leap above the waves. Sharks of various species including a 15 foot glacius shark with sharp triangular teeth and so transparent was almost invisible amid the waters. Brown lantern sharks prison shaped humantan sharks armored with protuberant sides sturgeons resembling their relatives in the Mediterranean. Trumpets snouted pipe fish a foot and a half long yellowish brown with small gray fins and no teeth or tongue unreeling like slim supple snakes. Among bony fish Conceal noticed some blackish marlin three meters long with a sharp sword jutting from the upper jaw. Bright colored weavers known in Aristotle's day as sea dragons and whose dorsal stingers make them quite dangerous to pick up. Then dolphin fish with brown backs striped in blue and edged in gold, handsome dorados moon like opas that look like azure discs but which the sun's rays turn into spots of silver. Finally eight meter swordfish from the genus Cepheus swimming in pools sporting yellowish sickle shaped fins and six foot broadswords stalwart animals plant eaters rather than fish eaters obeying the tiniest signals from their females like unpacked husbands. But while observing these different specimens of marine fauna I didn't stop examining the long plains of Atlantis sometimes an unpredictable irregularity in the sea floor would force the nautilus to slow down then it would glide into the narrow channels between the hills with a cetaceans dexterity if the labyrinth became hopelessly tangled the submersible would rise above it like an airship and after clearing the obstacle it would resume its speedy course just a few meters above the ocean floor. It was an enjoyable and impressive way of navigating that did indeed recall the maneuvers of an airship ride with the major difference that the nautilus faithfully obeyed the hands of its homesmen. The terrain consisted mostly of thick slime mixed with petrified branches but it changed little by little near four o'clock in the afternoon. It grew rockier and seemed to be strewn with puddingstones and a balsaltic gravel called tough together with bits of lava and sulfurous obsidian. I expected these long plains to change into mountain regions and in fact as the nautilus was executing certain turns I noticed that the southerly horizon was blocked by a high wall that seemed to close off every exit. Its summit obviously poked above the level of the ocean. It had to be a continent or at least an island either one of the canaries or one of the Cape Verde islands. Our bearings hadn't been marked on the chart perhaps deliberately and I had no idea what our position was. In any case this wall seemed to signal the end of Atlantis of which all in all we had crossed only a small part. Nightfall didn't interrupt my observations. I was left to myself. Conceal had repaired to his cabin. The nautilus slowed down hovering above the muddled masses on the sea floor sometimes grazing them as if wanting to come to rest sometimes rising unpredictably to the surface of the waves. Then I glimpsed a few bright constellations through the crystal waters. Specifically five or six of those zodiacal stars trailing from the tail end of Orion. I would have stayed longer at my window marveling at these beauties of sea and sky but the panels closed. Just then the nautilus had arrived at the perpendicular face of that high wall. How the ship would maneuver I hadn't a guess. I repaired to my stateroom. The nautilus did not stir. I fell asleep with the firm intention of waking up in just a few hours. But it was eight o'clock the next day when I returned to the lounge. I stared at the pressure gauge. It told me that the nautilus was a float on the surface of the ocean. Furthermore I heard the sound of footsteps on the platform. Yet there were no rolling movements to indicate the presence of waves undulating above me. I climbed as far as the hatch. It was open. But instead of the broad daylight I was expecting I found that I was surrounded by total darkness. Where were we? Had I been mistaken? Was it still night? No. Not one star was twinkling and the nighttime is never so utterly black. I wasn't sure what to think. When a voice said to me is that you, Professor? Ah, Captain Nemo I replied. Where are we? Underground, Professor. Underground I exclaimed and the nautilus is still floating. It always floats. But I don't understand. Wait a little while. Our beacon is about to go on and if you want some light on the subject you'll be satisfied. I set foot on the platform and waited. The darkness was so profound I couldn't see even Captain Nemo. However, looking at the zenith directly overhead I thought I caught a sight of a feeble glimmer. A sort of twilight filtering through a circular hole. Just then the beacon suddenly went on and its intense brightness made that hazy light vanish. This stream of electricity dazzled my eyes and after momentarily shutting them I looked around. The nautilus was stationary. It was floating next to an embankment shaped like a wharf. As for the water now buoying the ship it was a lake completely encircled by an inner wall about two miles in diameter hence six miles around. Its level as indicated by the pressure gauge would be the same as the outside level because some connection had to exist between this lake and the sea. Slanting inward over their base these high walls converged to form a vault shaped like an immense upside down funnel that measured 500 or 600 meters in height. At its summit they're gaped a circular opening through which I had detected that faint glimmer obviously daylight. Before more carefully examining the interior features of this enormous cavern and before deciding if it was the work of nature or humankind I went over to Captain Nemo. Where are we? I said. In the very heart of an extinct volcano the captain answered me a volcano whose interior was invaded by the sea after some convulsion in the earth. While you were sleeping professor the Nautilus entered this lagoon through a natural channel that opens ten meters below the surface of the ocean. This is our home port secure, convenient, secret and sheltered against winds from any direction. Along the coasts of your continents or islands show me any terrain that can equal this safe refuge for withstanding the fury of hurricanes. Indeed I replied here you're in perfect safety Captain Nemo who could reach you in the heart of a volcano but I don't see an opening at its summit. Yes, it's crater a crater formally filled with lava, steam and flames but which now lets in this life-giving air but which volcanic mountain is this, I asked it's one of the many islets with which this sea is strewn. For ships a mere reef for us an immense cavern I discovered it by chance and chance served me well but couldn't someone enter through the mouth of its crater no more than I could exit through it you can climb about a hundred feet in the inner base of this mountain but then the walls overhang they lean too far in to be scaled I can see Captain that nature is your obedient servant any time or any place you're safe on this lake and nobody else can visit its waters but what's the purpose of this refuge the Nautilus doesn't need a harbor no professor but it needs electricity to run batteries to generate its electricity sodium to feed its batteries coal to make its sodium and coal fields from which to dig its coal now then right at this spot the sea covers entire forests that sank under water in prehistoric times today turned to stone transformed into carbon fuel they offer me inexhaustible coal mines so Captain your men practice the trade of miners here precisely these mines extend under the waves like the coal fields at Newcastle here, dressed in diving suits pick and maddock in hand my men go out and dig this carbon fuel for which I don't need a single mine on land then I burn this combustible to produce sodium the smoke escaping from the mountains crater gives it the appearance of a still active volcano and will we see your companions at work? no, at least not this time because I am eager to continue our underwater tour of the world accordingly I'll rest content with drawing on my reserve stock of sodium we'll stay here long enough to load it on board in other words a singled work day then we'll resume our voyage so professor Aaron X if you'd like to explore this cavern and circle its lagoon seize the day I thanked the captain and went to look for my two companions who hadn't yet left their cabin I invited them to follow me not telling them where we were they climbed onto the platform conceal whom nothing could startle saw it as a perfectly natural thing to fall asleep under the waves and wake up under a mountain but Ned Land had no idea in his head other than to see if this cavern offered some way out after breakfast near ten o'clock we went down onto the embankment so here we are back on shore concealed said I'd hardly call this shore the Canadian replied and besides we aren't on it but under it a sandy beach unfolded before us measuring five hundred feet at its widest point between the waters of the lake and the foot of the mountain's walls via this strand you could easily circle the lake but the base of these high walls consisted of broken soil over which there lay picturesque piles of volcanic blocks and enormous pumice stones all these crumbling masses were covered with an enamel polished by the action of underground fires and they glistened under the stream of electric light on our beacon stirred up by our footsteps the mica rich dust on this beach flew into the air like clouds of sparks the ground rose appreciably as it moved away from the sand flats by the waves and we soon arrived at some long winding gradients genuinely steep paths that allowed us to climb little by little but we had to tread cautiously in the midst of pudding stones that weren't cemented together and our feet kept skidding on glassy trahites made of feldspar and quartz crystals the volcanic nature of this enormous pit was apparent all around us I ventured to comment on it to my companions can you picture I asked them what this funnel must have been like when it was filled with boiling lava and the level of that incandescent liquid rose right to the mountain's mouth like cast iron up the sides of a furnace I can picture it perfectly concealed replied but will master tell me why this huge smelter suspended operations and how it is that an oven was replaced by the tranquil waters of a lake in all likelihood concealed because some convulsion created an opening below the surface of the ocean the opening that serves as a passageway for the Nautilus then the waters of the Atlantic rushed inside the mountain there ensued a dreadful struggle between the elements of fire and water a struggle ending in King Neptune's favor but many centuries have passed since then and this submerged volcano has changed into a peaceful cavern that's fine Ned Land answered I accept the explanation for personal interests I'm sorry this opening the professor mentions wasn't made above sea level but Ned my friend Conceal answered if it weren't an underwater passageway the Nautilus couldn't enter it and I might add Mr. Land I said that the waters wouldn't have rushed under the mountain and the volcano would still be a volcano so you have nothing to be sorry about our climb continued the gradients got steeper and narrower sometimes they were cut across by deep pits that had to be cleared masses of overhanging rock had to be gotten around you slid on your knees you crept on your belly but helped by the Canadian strength and Conceal's dexterity we overcame every obstacle at an elevation of about 30 meters the structure of the terrain changed without becoming any easier putting stones and track height gave way to black basaltic rock here lying in slabs all swollen with blisters there shaped like actual prisms and arranged into a series of columns that supported the springings of this immense vault a wonderful sample of natural architecture then among this basaltic rock there snaked long hardened lava flows in light with veins of bituminous coal and in places covered by wide carpets of sulfur the sunshine coming through the crater had grown stronger shedding a hazy light over all the volcanic waste forever buried in the heart of this extinct mountain but when we had ascended to an elevation of about 250 feet we were stopped by other mountable obstacles the converging inside walls changed into overhangs and our climb into a circular stroll at this top most level the vegetable kingdom began to challenge the mineral kingdom shrubs and even a few trees emerged from crevices in the walls I recognized some spurges that let their caustic purgative sap trickle out there were heliotropes very remiss at living up to their sun worshipping reputations since no sunlight ever reached them their clusters of flowers drooped sadly their colors and scents were faded here and there chrysanthemums sprouted timidly at the feet of aloes with long sad sickly leaves but between these lava flows I spotted little violets who gave off a subtle fragrance and I confess that I inhaled it with delight the soul of a flower is its scent and those splendid water plants flowers of the sea have no souls we had arrived at the foot of a sturdy clump of dragon trees which were splitting the rocks with exertions of their muscular roots when Ned Land exclaimed oh sir a hive a hive I answered with a gesture of utter disbelief yes a hive the canadian repeated with bees buzzing around I went closer and was forced to recognize the obvious at the mouth of a hole cut in the trunk of a dragon tree there swarmed thousands of these ingenious insects so common to all the canary islands where their output is especially prized naturally enough the canadian wanted to lay in a supply of honey and it would have been ill mannered of me to say no he mixed sulfur with some dry leaves set them on fire with a spark from his tinder box and proceeded to smoke the bees out little by little the buzzing died down and they disemboweled hive yielded several pounds of sweet honey Ned Land stuffed his haversack with it this honey with our breadfruit batter he told us I'll be ready to serve you a delectable piece of cake but of course Conceal put in it will be gingerbread I'm all for gingerbread I said but let's resume this fascinating stroll at certain turns in the trail we were going along the lake appeared in its full expanse the ship's beacon lit up that whole placid surface which experienced neither ripples nor undulations the nautilus lay perfectly still on its platform and on the embankment crewmen were bustling around black shadows that stood out clearly in the midst of the luminous air just then we went around the highest ridge of these rocky foothills that supported the vault then I saw that bees weren't the animal kingdom's only representatives inside this volcano here and in the shadows birds of prey soared and whirled flying away from nests perched on tips of rocks there were sparrow hawks with white bellies and screeching kestrels with all the speed their stilt-like legs could muster fine fat bustards scampered over the slopes I'll let the reader decide whether the Canadian's appetite was aroused by the sight of this tasty game and whether he regretted having no rifle in his hands he tried to make stones do the work of bullets and after several fruitless attempts he managed to wound one of the magnificent bustards to say he risked his life twenty times in order to capture this bird is simply the unadulterated truth but he fared so well the animal went into his sack to join the honeycombs by then we were forced to go back down to the beach which had become impossible above us the yawning crater looked like the wide mouth of a well from where we stood the sky was pretty easy to see and I watched clouds race by disheveled by the west wind letting tatters of mist trail over the mountain's summit proof positive that those clouds kept at a moderate altitude because this volcano didn't rise more than eighteen hundred feet of the ocean half an hour after the canadian's latest exploits we were back on the inner beach there the local flora was represented by a wide carpet of samfire a small umbiliferous plant that keeps quite nicely which also boasts the names glasswort, sexifrage and sea fennel conceal picked a couple bunches as for the local fauna there are thousands of crustaceans of every type lapsters, hermit crabs, prawns mysid shrimp, daddy long legs rock crabs and a prodigious number of seashells such as cowries murex snails and limpets in this locality there gaped the mouth of a magnificent cave my companions and I took great pleasure in stretching out on its fine grained sand that polished the sparkling enamel of its inner walls sprinkled all over with mica rich dust net land tapped these walls and tried to probe their thickness I couldn't help smiling our conversation then turned to his everlasting escape plans and without going too far I felt I could offer him this hope captain Nemo had gone down south only to replenish his sodium supplies so I hoped he would now hug the coasts of Europe and America which would allow the Canadian to try again with a greater chance of success we were stretched out in this delightful cave for an hour our conversation lively at the outset then languished a definite drowsiness overcame us since I saw no good reason to resist the call of sleep I fell into a heavy dose I dreamed he doesn't choose his dreams that my life had been reduced to the vegetating existence of a simple mollusk it seemed to me that this cave made up my double halved shell suddenly Conceal's voice startled me awake get up get up shouted the fine lad what is it I asked in a sitting position the water's coming up to us I got back on my feet like a torrent the sea was rushing into our retreat and since we definitely were not mollusks we had to clear out in a few seconds we were safe on top of the cave what happened Conceal asked some new phenomena not quite my friends I replied it was the tide merely the tide which well nigh caught us by surprise just as it did Sir Walter Scott's hero the ocean outside is rising and by a perfectly natural law of balance the level of this lake is also rising we've gotten off with a mild dunking let's go change clothes on the nautilus three quarters of an hour later we had completed our circular stroll and were back on board just then the crewmen finished loading the sodium supplies and the nautilus could have departed immediately but Captain Nemo gave no orders would he wait for nightfall and exit through his underwater passageway in secrecy perhaps be that as it may by the next day the nautilus had left its home port and was navigating well out from any shore a few meters beneath the waves of the Atlantic the end of chapter 10 recorded by Westwinds 12 this is a LibriVox recording all LibriVox recordings are in the public domain for more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org 20,000 leagues under the seas by Jules Verne second part chapter 11 the Sargasso Sea the nautilus didn't change direction for the time being then we had to set aside any hope of returning to European seas Captain Nemo kept his prow pointing south where was he taking us I was afraid to guess that day the nautilus crossed an odd part of the Atlantic Ocean no one is unaware of the existence of that great warm water current known by name as the Gulf Stream after emerging from channels off Florida it heads towards Spitzbergen but before entering the Gulf of Mexico near latitude 44 degrees north this current divides into two arms its chief arm makes for the shores of Ireland and Norway while the second flexes southward at the level of the Azores then it hits the coast of Africa sweeps in a long oval and returns to the Caribbean Sea now then this second arm more accurately a collar forms a ring of warm water around a section of cool tranquil motionless ocean called the Sargasso Sea this is an actual lake in the open Atlantic and the great currents waters take at least three years to circle it properly speaking the Sargasso Sea covers every submerged part of Atlantis certain authors have even held that the many weeds strewn over this sea were torn loose from the prairies of that ancient continent but it's more likely that these grasses algae and fucous plants were carried off from the beaches of Europe and America then taken as far as this zone by the Gulf Stream this is one of the reasons why Christopher Columbus assumed the existence of a new world when the ships of that bold investigator arrived in the Sargasso Sea they had great difficulty navigating in the midst of these weeds which much to their cruise dismay slowed them down to a halt and they wasted three long weeks crossing this sector such was the region our Nautilus was visiting just then a genuine prairie a tightly woven carpet of algae gulf weed and bladder wreck so dense and compact a craft stem post couldn't tear through it without difficulty accordingly not wanting to entangle his propeller in this captain Nemo stay to the depth some meters below the surface of the waves the name Sargasso comes from the Spanish word Sargasso meaning gulf weed this gulf weed the swimming gulf weed or berry carrier is the chief substance making up this immense shoal and here's why these plants collect in this placid Atlantic basin according to the expert on the subject Commander Mori author of the physical geography of the sea the explanation he give seems to entail a set of conditions that everybody knows now Mori says if bits of cork or chaff or any floating substance be put into a basin and a circular motion be given to the water all the light substances will be found crowding together near the center of the pool where there's the least motion such a basin is the Atlantic ocean to the gulf stream and the Sargasso sea is at the center of the world I share Mori's view and I was able to study the phenomenon in this exclusive setting where ships rarely go above us huddle among the brown weeds their floated objects originating from all over tree trunks ripped from the rocky mountains or the Andes and sent floating down the Amazon or the Mississippi numerous pieces of wreckage remnants of keels or undersides bulwarks staved in and so weighed down with seashells and barnacles they couldn't rise to the surface of the ocean and the passing years will someday bear out Mori's other view that by collecting in this way over the centuries these substances will be turned to stone by the action of the waters and will then form inexhaustible coal fields valuable reserves prepared by far-seeing nature for that time when man will have exhausted his minds on the continents in the midst of this hopelessly tangled fabric of weeds and fucous plants I noted some delightful pink colored star shaped Alcian coral sea an enemy trailing the long tresses of their tentacles green, red, and blue jellyfish and especially those big rhizostome jellyfish that Cuvier described whose bluish parasols are trimmed with violet festoons we spent the whole day of February the 22nd in the Sargasso Sea where fish that doad on marine plants and crustaceans find plenty to eat the next day the ocean resumed its usual appearance from this moment on for 19 days from February 23rd to March 12th the nautilus stayed in the middle of the Atlantic hustling us along at a constant speed of 100 leagues every 24 hours it was obvious that Captain Nemo wanted to carry out his underwater program and I had no doubt that he intended after doubling Cape Horn to return to the Pacific South Seas so Ned Land had good reason to worry in these wide seas empty of islands it was no longer feasible to jump ship nor did we have any way to counter Captain Nemo's whims we had no choice but to acquiesce but if we couldn't attain our end through force or cunning I like to think we might achieve it through persuasion once this voyage was over might not Captain Nemo consent to set us free in return for a promise never to reveal his existence which we sincerely would have kept however this delicate question would have to be negotiated with the Captain but how would he receive our demands for freedom at the very outset and in no uncertain terms hadn't he declared the secret of his life required that we be permanently imprisoned on board the nautilus wouldn't he see my four month silence as a tacit acceptance of this situation would my returning to this subject arouse suspicions that could jeopardize our escape plans if we had promising circumstances for trying again later on I weighed all these considerations turned them over in my mind submitted them to Konsei but he was as baffled as I was in short although I'm not easily discouraged I realized that my chances of ever seeing my fellow men again were shrinking by the day especially at a time when Captain Nemo was recklessly racing toward the South Atlantic during those nineteen days just mentioned no unique incidents distinguished our voyage I saw little of the Captain he was at work in the library I often found books he had left open especially books on natural history he had thumbed through my work on the great ocean depths and the margins were covered with his notes which sometimes contradicted my theories and formulations but the Captain remained content with this method of refining my work and he rarely discussed it with me sometimes I heard melancholy sounds reverberating from the organ which he played very expressively but only at night in the midst of the most secretive darkness while the Nautilus slumbered in the wilderness of the ocean during this part of our voyage we navigated on the surface of the waves for entire days the sea was nearly deserted a few sailing ships laden for the East Indies were headed toward the Cape of Good Hope one day we were chased by the long boats of a whaling vessel which undoubtedly viewed us as some enormous baleen whale of great value but Captain Nemo didn't want these gallant gentlemen wasting their time and energy so he ended the hunt diving beneath the waters this incident seemed to fascinate Ned land intensely I'm sure the Canadian was sorry that these fishermen couldn't harpoon our sheet iron cetacean and mortally wound it during this period the fish can se and I observed differed little from those we had already studied in other latitudes chief among them were specimens of that dreadful cartilaginous that's divided into three subgenera numbering at least 32 species striped sharks 5 meters long the head squat and wider than the body the caudal fin recurved the back with 7 big black parallel lines running lengthwise then Perlin sharks ash gray pierced with 7 gill openings furnished with a single dorsal fin placed almost exactly in the middle of the body some big dog fish also passed by a voracious species of shark if there ever was one with some justice fishermen's yarns aren't to be trusted but here's what a few of them relate inside the corpse of one of these animals there were found a buffalo head and a whole calf in another two-tuna and a sailor in uniform in yet another a soldier with his sabre in another finally a horse with its rider in candor none of these sounds like divinely inspired truth but the fact remains that not a single dog fish let itself get caught in the nautilus's nets so I can't vouch for their veracity schools of elegant playful dolphins swam alongside for entire days they went in groups of 5 or 6 hunting in packs like wolves over the countryside moreover they're just as voracious as dogfish if I can believe a certain Copenhagen professor who says that from one dolphin's stomach he removed 13 porpoises and 15 seals true it was a killer whale belonging to the biggest known species whose length sometimes exceeds 24 feet the family Delfinia numbers 10 genera and the dolphins I saw were genus Delfinorincus remarkable for an extremely narrow muzzle 4 times as long as the cranium measuring 3 meters their bodies were black on top underneath a pinkish white strewn with small very scattered spots from these seas I'll also mention some unusual specimens of croakers fish from the order Achantho terigia family Sinidia some authors more artistic than scientific claimed that these fish are melodious singers that their voices in unison put on concerts unmatched by human coristers I don't say nay but to my regret these croakers didn't serenade us as we passed finally to conclude Konsei classified a large number of flying fish nothing could have made a more unusual sight than the marvelous timing with which dolphins hunt these fish whatever the range of its flight however evasive its trajectory even up and over the nautilus the hapless flying fish always found a dolphin to welcome it with open mouth these were either flying Gernards or kite like sea robins whose lips glowed in the dark at night scrolling fiery streaks in the air before plunging into the murky waters like so many shooting stars our navigating continued under these conditions until March 13 that day the nautilus was put to work in some depth sounding experiments that fascinated me deeply by then we had fared nearly 13,000 leagues from our starting point in the Pacific high seas our position fix placed us in latitude 45 degrees 37 minutes south and longitude 37 degrees 53 minutes west these were the same water ways where Captain Denims aboard the Herald paid out 14,000 meters of sounding line without finding bottom it was here too that Lieutenant Parker aboard the American frigate congress was unable to reach the underwater soil at 15,149 meters Captain Nemo decided to take his nautilus down to the lowest depths in order to double check these different soundings I got ready to record the results of this experiment the panels in the lounge opened and maneuvers began for reaching those strata so prodigiously far removed it was apparently considered out of the question to dive by filling the ballast tanks perhaps they wouldn't sufficiently increase the nautilus's specific gravity or over in order to come back up it would be necessary to expel the excess water and our pumps might not have been strong enough to overcome the outside pressure Captain Nemo decided to make for the ocean floor by submerging on an appropriately gradual diagonal with the help of his side fins which were set at a 45 degrees angle to the nautilus's waterline then the propeller was brought to its maximum speed and its four blades turned the waves into indescribable violence under this powerful thrust the nautilus's hull quivered like a resonating cord and the ship sank steadily under the waters stationed in the lounge the captain and I watched the needles swerving swiftly over the pressure gauge soon we had gone below the livable zone where most fish reside some of these animals can thrive only at the surface of seas or rivers but a minority can dwell at great depths among the latter I observed a species of dogfish called the cow shark that's equipped with six respiratory slits the telescope fish with its enormous eyes the armored Gernard with grey thoracic fins plus black pectoral fins and a breastplate protected by pale red slabs of bone then finally the grenadier living at a depth of 1200 meters at that point tolerating a pressure of 120 atmospheres I asked Captain Nemo if he had observed any fish at more considerable depths fish rarely he answered me but given the current state of marine science who are we to presume what do we really know of these depths just this captain in going toward the ocean's lower strata we know that vegetable life disappears more quickly than animal life we know that moving creatures can still be encountered where water plants no longer grow we know that oysters and pilgrim scallops live in 2000 meters of water and that Admiral McClintock England's hero of the polar seas pulled in a live sea star from a depth of 2500 meters we know that the crew of the Royal Navy's Bulldog 2620 fathoms hence from a depth of more than one vertical league would you still say Captain Nemo that we really know nothing no, Professor the captain replied I wouldn't be so discourteous yet I'll ask you to explain how these creatures can live at such depths I explained it on two grounds I replied in the first place because vertical currents which are caused by differences in the water's salinity and density can produce enough motion to sustain the rudimentary lifestyles of sea lilies and starfish true, the captain put in in the second place because oxygen is the basis of life and we know that the amount of oxygen dissolved in salt water increases rather than decreases with depth that the pressure in these lower strata helps to concentrate their oxygen content oh, we know that do we Captain Nemo replied in a tone of mild surprise well, Professor, we have good reason to know it because it's the truth I might add, in fact, that the air bladders of fish contain more nitrogen than oxygen when these animals are caught at the surface of the water and conversely more oxygen than nitrogen when they're pulled up from the lower depths which bears out your formulation observations. My eyes flew back to the pressure gauge the instrument indicated a depth of 6,000 meters our submergence had been going on for an hour, the nautilus slid downward on its slanting fins still sinking, these deserted waters were wonderfully clear with a transparency impossible to convey an hour later we were at 13,000 meters, about three and a quarter vertical depths and the ocean floor was nowhere in sight however, at 14,000 meters I saw blackish peaks rising in the midst of the waters but these summits could have belonged to mountains as high or even higher than the Himalayas or Mont Blanc and the extent of these depths remained incalculable despite the powerful pressures it was undergoing the nautilus sank still deeper I could feel its sheet iron plates trembling down to their riveted joins metal bars arched bulkheads groaned the lounge windows seemed to be warping inward under the water's pressure and this whole sturdy mechanism would surely have given way if, as its captain had said it weren't capable of resisting like a solid block while grazing these rocky slopes lost under the waters I still spotted some seashells tube worms lively antelid worms from the genus Spirorbis and certain starfish specimens but soon these last representatives of animal life vanished and three vertical leagues down the nautilus passed below the limits of underwater existence just as an air balloon rises above the breathable zones in the sky we reached a depth of 1,000 meters four vertical leagues and by then the nautilus's plating was tolerating a pressure of 1,600 atmospheres in other words 1,600 kilograms per each square centimeter on its surface what an experience I exclaimed traveling these deep regions where no man has ever ventured before look captain look at these magnificent rocks and caves these last global haunts where life is no longer possible what unheard of scenery and why are we reduced to preserving it only as a memory would you like? to bring back more than just a memory what do you mean? I mean that nothing could be easier than taking a photograph of this underwater region before I had time to express the surprise this new proposition for me a camera was carried into the lounge at captain Nemo's request the liquid setting, electrically lit unfolded with perfect clarity through the wide open panels no shadows, no blurs thanks to our artificial light not even sunshine could have been better for our purposes with the thrust of its propeller curbed by the slant of its fins the nautilus stood still the camera was aimed at the scenery on the ocean floor and in a few seconds we had a perfect negative I attach a print of the positive in it you can view these primordial rocks that have never seen the light of day this nether granite that forms the powerful foundation of our globe the deep caves cut into the stony mass the outlines of incomparable distinctness whose far edges stand out in black with the brush of certain Flemish painters in the distance is a mountainous horizon a wondrously undulating line that makes up the background of this landscape the general effect of these smooth rocks is indescribable black polished without moss or other blemish carved into strange shapes sitting firmly on a carpet of sand that sparkled beneath our streams of electric light meanwhile his photographic operations over Captain Nemo told me let's go back up professor we mustn't push our luck and expose the nautilus too long to these pressures let's go back up I replied hold on tight before I had time to realize why the captain made this recommendation I was hurled to the carpet its fins set vertically its propeller thrown in gear at the captain's signal the nautilus rose with lightning speed shooting upward like an air balloon into the sky vibrating resonantly it knifed through the watery mass not a single detail was visible in four minutes it had cleared the four vertical leagues separating it from the surface of the ocean and after emerging like a flying fish it fell back into the sea making the waves leap to prodigious heights End of Chapter 11 This is a LibriVox recording all LibriVox recordings are in the public domain for more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org 20,000 leagues under the seas by Jules Verne Second Part Chapter 12 Sperm Whales and Baleen Whales During the night of March 13th to 14th the nautilus resumed its southward heading once it was abreast of Cape Horn but it would strike west of the Cape make for the Pacific Seas and complete its tour of the world it did nothing of the sort and kept moving toward the southern most regions so where was it bound? the pole? that was insanity I was beginning to think that the captain's recklessness more than justified Ned Land's worst fears for a good while the Canadian had said nothing more to me about his escape plans he'd become less sociable almost sullen I could see how heavily this protracted imprisonment was weighing on him I could feel the anger building in him whenever he encountered the captain his eyes would flicker with dark fire and I was in constant dread that his natural vehemence would cause him to do something rash that day, March 14th he and Concey managed to find me in my state room I asked them the purpose of their visit a simple question to your sir the Canadian answered me go on Ned how many men do you think are on board the Nautilus? I'm unable to say, my friend it seems to me Ned Land went on that it wouldn't take much of a crew to run a ship like this one correct, I replied under existing conditions some ten men at the most should be enough to operate it all right, the Canadian said more than that why? I answered I stared at Ned Land whose motives were easy to guess because I said if I can trust my hunches if I truly understand the captain's way of life his Nautilus isn't simply a ship it's meant to be a refuge for people like its commander people who have severed all ties with the shore perhaps Concey said but in a nutshell the Nautilus can only have a number of men so couldn't Master estimate their maximum? how, Concey? by calculating it Master is familiar with the ship's capacity hence the amount of air it contains on the other hand Master knows how much air each man consumes in the act of breathing and he can compare this data with the fact that the Nautilus must rise to the surface every twenty-four hours Concey didn't finish his sentence but I could easily see what he was driving at I follow you I said but while they're simple to do such calculations can give only a very uncertain figure no problem the Canadian went on insistently well then here's how to calculate it I replied in one hour each man consumes the oxygen contained in one hundred litres of air hence during twenty-four hours the oxygen contained in twenty-four hundred litres therefore we must look for the multiple of twenty-four hundred litres of air that gives us the amount found in the Nautilus precisely Concey said now then I went on the Nautilus's capacity is fifteen hundred metric tonnes and that of a ton is a thousand litres so the Nautilus holds one million five hundred thousand litres of air which divided by twenty-four hundred I did a quick pencil calculation gives us the quotient of six hundred and twenty-five which is tantamount to saying that the air contained in the Nautilus would be exactly enough for six hundred and twenty-five men over twenty-four hours six hundred twenty-five Ned repeated but rest assured I added that between passengers, seamen or officers we don't total one tenth of that figure which is still too many for three men Concey muttered so my poor Ned I can only counsel patients Concey replied even more than patients resignation Concey had said the true word even so he went on Captain Nemo can't go south forever he'll surely have to stop if only at the ice bank and he'll return to the seas of civilization then it would be time to resume Ned Land's plans the Canadian shook his head passed his hand over his brow made no reply and left us with master's permission I'll make an observation to him Concey then told me our poor Ned broods about all the things he can't have he's haunted by his former life he seems to miss everything that's denied us he's obsessed by his old memories and it's breaking his heart we must understand him what does he have to occupy him here nothing he isn't a scientist like master and he doesn't share our enthusiasm for the seas wonders he would risk anything just to enter a tavern in his own country to be sure the monotony of life on board must have seemed unbearable to the Canadian who was accustomed to freedom and activity it was a rare event that could excite him that day however a development occurred that it reminded him of his happy years as a harpooner near eleven o'clock in the morning while on the surface of the ocean the nautilus fell in with a herd of baleen whales this encounter didn't surprise me because I knew these animals were being hunted so relentlessly that they took refuge in the ocean basins of the high latitudes in the maritime world and in the realm of geographic exploration whales have played a major role this is the animal that first dragged the Basques in its wake then Asturian Spaniards, Englishmen and Dutchmen emboldening them against the ocean's perils and leading them to the ends of the earth Baleen whales like to frequent the southernmost and northernmost seas old legends even claim that these cetaceans led fishermen to within a mere seven leagues of the North Pole although this feat is fictitious it will some day come true because it's likely that by hunting whales in the arctic or Antarctic regions man will finally reach this unknown spot on the globe we were seated on the platform next to a tranquil sea the month of March, since it's the equivalent of October in these latitudes, was giving us some fine autumn days it was the Canadian, on this topic he was never mistaken who sighted a Baleen whale on the eastern horizon if you looked carefully you'd see it's blackish back alternately rise and fall above the waves five miles from the Nautilus wow! Ned Land exclaimed if I were on board a whaler there's an encounter that would be great fun that's one big animal look how high its blowholes are smouting all that air and steam damnation! why am I chained to this hunk of sheet iron? why Ned, I replied you still aren't over your old fishing urges how could a whale fisherman forget his old trade, sir? who could ever get tired of such exciting hunting? you've never fished these seas, Ned? never, sir, just the northernmost seas equally in the Bering Strait and the Davis Strait so the southern right whale is still unknown to you until now it's the bowhead whale you've hunted and it won't risk going past the warm waters of the equator Professor, what are you feeding me? the Canadian answered in a tolerably skeptical tone I'm feeding you the facts my thunder in sixty-five, just two and a half years ago I, to whom you speak, I myself stepped onto the carcass of a whale near Greenland and its flank still carried the marked harpoon of a whaling-ship from the Bering Sea now I ask you, after it had been wounded west of America how could this animal be killed in the east unless it had cleared the equator and doubled Cape Horn or the Cape of Good Hope? I agree with our friend Ned, Concey said and I'm waiting to hear how Master will reply to him Master will reply, my friends, that Baleen whales are localized according to species within certain seas that they never leave and if one of these animals went from the Bering Strait to the Davis Strait it's quite simply because there's some passageway from one sea to the other either along the coasts of Canada or Siberia do you expect us to fall for that, the Canadian asked tipping me a wink if Master says so, Concey replied which means, the Canadian went on since I've never fished these waterways I don't know the whales that frequent them that's what I've been telling you, Ned all the more reason to get to know them, Concey answered look! look! the Canadian exclaimed his voiceful of excitement it's approaching, it's coming toward us it's thumbing its nose at me it knows I can't do a blessed thing to it Ned stamped his foot brandishing an imaginary harpoon his hands positively trembled these citations, he asked are they as big as the ones in the northern most seas? pretty nearly, Ned I've seen big baleen whales, sir whales measuring up to one hundred feet long I've even heard that those roaqual whales off the Aleutian Island sometimes get over a hundred and fifty feet that strikes me as exaggerated, I replied those animals are only members of the genus Bellenoptera furnished with dorsal fins and like sperm whales they're generally smaller than the bowhead whale oh! exclaimed the Canadian whose eyes hadn't left the ocean it's getting closer, it's coming into the Nautilus' waters then going on with his conversation you talk about sperm whales, he said as if they were little beasts but there are stories of gigantic sperm whales they're shrewd citations I hear that some will cover themselves with algae and fucous plants people mistake them for islets they pitch camp on top, make themselves at home light a fire, build houses, Concey said yes, funny man Nedland replied, then one fine day the animal dives and drags all its occupants down into the depths like in the wages of Sinbad the sailor I answered, laughing oh, Mr. Land, you're addicted to tall tales what sperm whales you're handing us I hope you don't really believe in them Mr. Naturalist, the Canadian, replied in all seriousness when it comes to whales, you can believe anything look at that one move look at it stealing away people claim these animals can circle around the world in just 15 days I don't say nay but what you undoubtedly don't know, Professor Aranax is that at the beginning of the world whales traveled even quicker oh really Ned, and why so? because in those days their tales move side to side like those on fish in other words, their tales were straight up thrashing the water from left to right right to left but spotting that they swam too fast our creator twisted the tales and ever since they'd been thrashing the waves up and down at the expense of their speed fine, Ned, I said, then resurrected one of the Canadian's expressions you expect us to fall for that? not too terribly, Nedland replied and no more than if I told you there are whales that are 300 feet long and weigh one million pounds that's indeed considerable, I said but you must admit that certain cetaceans do grow to significant size since they're said to supply as much as 120 metric tons of oil that I've seen, the Canadian said I can easily believe it, Ned just as I can believe that certain baleen whales equal 100 elephants in bulk imagine the impact of such a mass if it were launched at full speed is it true, Kansei asked that they can sink ships? ships, I doubt it, I replied however they say that in 1820 right in the southern seas a baleen whale rushed at the Essex and pushed it backward at a speed of four meters per second its stern was flooded and the Essex went down fast Ned looked at me with a bantering expression speaking for myself, he said I once got walloped by a whale's tail in my longboat needless to say my companions and I were launched to an altitude of six meters but next to the professor's whale mine was just a baby do these animals live a long time? Kansei asked a thousand years the Canadian replied without hesitation and how, Ned, I asked do you know that so? because people say so and why do people say so? because people know so no Ned, people don't know so they suppose so and here's the logic with which they back up their beliefs when fishermen first hunted whales 400 years ago these animals grew to bigger sizes than they do today reasonably enough it's assumed that today's whales are smaller because they haven't had time to reach their full growth that's why the count de Beaufort's encyclopedia says that cetaceans can live and even must live for a thousand years you understand? Nedland didn't understand he no longer even heard me that baleen whale kept coming closer, his eyes devoured it oh he exclaimed it's not just one whale, it's ten, twenty, a whole gam and I can't do a thing, I'm tied hand and foot but Ned, my friend, Concey said why not ask Captain Nemo for permission to hunt before Concey could finish his sentence Nedland scooted down the hatch and ran to look for the captain a few moments later the two of them reappeared on the platform Captain Nemo observed the herd of cetaceans cavorting on the waters a mile from the Nautilus their southern-right whales, he said there goes the fortune of a whole whaling fleet well sir the Canadian asked couldn't I hunt them just so I don't forget my old harpooning trade hunt them? what for? Captain Nemo replied simply to destroy them we have no use for whale oil on this ship but sir the Canadian went on in the Red Sea you authorised us to chase a dugong there was an issue of obtaining fresh meat for my crew here it would be killing for the sake of killing I'm well aware that's a privilege reserved for mankind but I don't allow such murderous pastimes when you appears Mr. Land destroy decent harmless creatures like the southern-right whale or the boarhead whale they commit a reprehensible offence thus they've already depopulated all of Bathin Bay and they'll wipe out a whole class of useful animals so leave these poor cetaceans alone they have quite enough natural enemies such as sperm whales swordfish and sawfish without you meddling with them I'll let the reader decide what faces the Canadian made during this lecture on hunting ethics furnishing such arguments to a professional harpooner was a waste of words Ned Land stared at Captain Nemo and obviously missed his meaning but the captain was right thanks to the mindless barbaric bloodthirstiness of fishermen the last baleen whale will someday disappear from the ocean Ned Land whistled the Yankee doodle between his teeth stuffed his hands in his pockets and turned his back on us meanwhile Captain Nemo studied the herd of cetaceans then addressed me I was right to claim that baleen whales have enough natural enemies without counting man these specimens will soon have to deal with mighty opponents Eight miles to Lourdes, Professor Arnox can you see those blackish specks moving about? Yes, Captain, I replied those are sperm whales dreadful animals that I've sometimes encountered in herds of two hundred or three hundred as for them they're cruel destructive beasts and they deserve to be exterminated the Canadian turned swiftly at these last words Well, Captain I said on behalf of the baleen whales there's still time it's pointless to run any risks, Professor the Nautilus will suffice to disperse these sperm whales it's armed with a steel spur quite equal to Mr. Len's harpoon, I imagine the Canadian didn't even bother shrugging his shoulders attacking cetaceans with thrusts from a spur whoever heard of such malarkey Wait and see, Professor Arnox Captain Nemo said we'll show you a style of hunting with which you aren't yet familiar we'll take no pity on these ferocious cetaceans they're merely mouth and teeth mouth and teeth there's no better way to describe the long-skulled sperm whale whose length sometimes exceeds twenty-five metres the enormous head of this cetacean occupies about a third of its body better armed than a baleen whale whose upper jaw is adorned solely with whale bone the sperm whale is equipped with twenty-five huge teeth that are twenty centimetres high have cylindrical conical summits and weigh two pounds each in the top part of this enormous head inside big cavities separated by cartilage you'll find three hundred to four hundred kilograms of that valuable oil called spermaceti the sperm whale is an awkward animal more tadpole than fish as Professor Fredo has noted it's poorly constructed being defective, so to speak over the whole left side of its frame with good eyesight only in its right eye meanwhile that monstrous herd kept coming closer it had seen the baleen whales and was preparing to attack you could tell in advance that the sperm whales would be victorious not only because they were better built for fighting than their harmless adversaries but also because they could stay longer underwater before returning to breathe at the surface there was just time to run to the rescue of the baleen whales the nautilus proceeded to mid-water Concey, Ned, and I sat in front of the lounge windows Captain Nemo made his way to the helmsman's side to operate his submersible as an engine of destruction soon I felt the beats of our propeller getting faster and we picked up speed the battle between sperm whales and baleen whales had already begun when the nautilus arrived it maneuvered to cut into the herd of long-scald predators at first the latter showed little concern at the sight of this new monster meddling in the battle but they soon had to sidestep its thrusts what a struggle Nedland quickly grew enthusiastic and even ended up applauding brandished in its captain's hands the nautilus was simply a fearsome harpoon he hurled it at those fleshy masses and ran them clean through leaving behind two squirming animal halves as for those daunting strokes of the tail hitting our sides the ship never felt them no more than the collisions it caused one sperm whale exterminated it ran at another tacked on the spot so as not to miss its prey went ahead or stern obeyed its rudder dived when the cetacean sank to deeper strata rose with it when it returned to the surface struck it head on or slant wise hacked at it or tore it and from every direction and at any speed skewered it with its dreadful spur what bloodshed what a hubbub on the surface of the waves what sharp hisses and snorts unique to these frightened animals their tails churned the normally peaceful strata into actual billows this Homeric slaughter dragged on for an hour and the long sculled predators couldn't get away several times ten or twelve of them teamed up trying to crush the nautilus with their sheer mass through the windows you could see their enormous mouths paved with teeth their fearsome eyes losing all self-control, ned land, hurled threats and insults at them you could feel them clinging to the submersible like hounds atop of wild boar in the underbrush but by forcing the pace of its propeller the nautilus carried them off dragged them under or brought them back to the upper level of the waters untroubled by their enormous weight or their powerful grip finally this mass of sperm whales thinned out the waves grew tranquil again I felt this rising to the surface of the ocean the hatch opened and we rushed on to the platform the sea was covered with mutilated corpses a fearsome explosion couldn't have slashed, torn or shredded these fleshy masses with greater violence we were floating in the midst of gigantic bodies bluish on the back, whitish on the belly and all deformed by enormous protuberances a few frightened sperm whales were fleeing toward the horizon the waves were dyed red over an area of several miles and the nautilus was floating in the middle of a sea of blood Captain Nemo rejoined us well, Mr. Land, he said well, sir, replied the Canadian whose enthusiasm had subsided it's a dreadful sight for sure but I am a hunter, not a butcher, and this is plain butchery it was a slaughter of destructive animals, the Captain replied and the nautilus is no butcher-knife I prefer my harpoon, the Canadian answered to each his own, the Captain replied staring intently at Ned Land I was in dread the latter would give way to some violent outburst that might have had deplorable consequences but his anger was diverted by the sight of a baleen whale that the nautilus had pulled alongside of just then this animal had been unable to escape the teeth of those sperm whales I recognized the southern right whale, its head squat, its body dark all over anatomically it's distinguished from the white whale and the black right whale by the fusion of its seven cervical vertebrae and it numbers two more ribs than its relatives floating on its side, its belly riddled with bites, the poor cetacean was dead still hanging from the tip of its mutilated fin was a little baby whale that it had been unable to rescue from the slaughter its open mouth let water flow through its whale bone like a murmuring surf Captain Nemo guided the nautilus next to the animal's corpse two of his men climbed onto the whale's flank and to my astonishment I saw them draw from its udders all the milk they held in other words enough to fill two or three casks the captain offered me a cup of this still warm milk I couldn't help showing my distaste for such a beverage he assured me that this milk was excellent no different from cow's milk I sampled it and agreed so this milk was a worthwhile reserve ration for us because in the form of salt, butter or cheese it would provide a pleasant change of pace from our standard fare from that day on I noted with some uneasiness that Ned Land's attitudes toward Captain Nemo grew worse and worse and I decided to keep a close watch on the Canadian's movements and activities