Книга - Двадцать тысяч лье под водой / Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea

Двадцать тысяч лье под водой / Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea
Jules Gabriel Verne


Легко читаем по-английски
Профессор Пьер Аронакс отправляется в экспедицию, целью которой является поимка чудовища, постоянно терроризирующего простые корабли. «Чудовищем» оказывается подводная лодка «Наутилус» под управлением загадочного капитана Немо. На борту «Наутилуса» профессору выпадает уникальный шанс исследовать множество чудес, скрытых в глубинах мирового океана.

Для удобства читателя книга содержит комментарии и краткий словарь. Предназначается для продолжающих изучать английский язык высшей ступени (уровень 4 – UpperIntermediate).





Жюль Верн / Jules Verne

Двадцать тысяч лье под водой / Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea





© Матвеев С. А., адаптация текста, коммент., и словарь, 2019

© ООО «Издательство АСТ», 2019





Part I





Chapter 1


The year 1866 was marked by a bizarre development, an unexplained phenomenon that surely no one has forgotten. It must be said that professional seamen were especially alarmed. Traders, shipowners, captains of vessels, skippers, and master mariners from Europe and America, naval officers from every country, and the various national governments on these two continents, were all extremely disturbed by the business.

What happened? Several ships had encountered “an enormous thing” at sea, a long spindle-shaped object, sometimes giving off a phosphorescent glow, infinitely bigger and faster than any whale.

The relevant data on this apparition agreed pretty closely as to the structure of the object or creature in question, its unprecedented speed of movement, its startling locomotive power, and its unique vitality. No naturalists would have accepted the existence of such a monster sight unseen—specifically, unseen by their own scientific eyes.

On July 20, 1866, the steamer Governor Higginson[1 - the Governor Higginson – «Говернор Хигинсон» (название судна)] encountered this moving mass five miles off the eastern shores of Australia. Captain Baker[2 - Baker – Бейкер] at first thought he was in the presence of an unknown reef; but two waterspouts shot out of this inexplicable object and sprang hissing into the air some 150 feet. Similar events were likewise observed in the Pacific seas[3 - in Pacific seas – в водах Тихого океана], on July 23 of the same year, by the Christopher Columbus[4 - the Christopher Columbus – «Христофор Колумб» (название судна)]. Both ships had observed the object at two places separated by a distance of more than 700 nautical leagues[5 - nautical league – морское лье (1 лье = 5556 м)].

Fifteen days later and 2,000 leagues farther, the Helvetia[6 - the Helvetia – «Гельвеция» (название судна)], running between the United States and Europe, had seen the monster in latitude 42 degrees 15’ north and longitude 60 degrees 35’ west of Greenwich.

One after another, reports arrived that profoundly affected public opinion. In lighthearted countries, people joked about this phenomenon, but such serious, practical countries as England, America, and Germany were deeply concerned. In every big city they sang about the monster in the coffee houses, they ridiculed it in the newspapers, they dramatized it in the theaters. They even reprinted reports fromancient times: the views of Aristotle and Pliny[7 - Aristotle and Pliny – Аристотель и Плиний] accepting the existence of such monsters, and so on.

During the first months of the year 1867, the question seemed to be buried, when new facts were brought to the public’s attention. But now it was no longer an issue of a scientific problem to be solved, but a quite real and serious danger to be avoided. The question took an entirely new turn. The monster again became an islet, rock, or reef, but a runaway reef, unfixed and elusive.

On March 5, 1867, the Moravia[8 - the Moravia – «Моравиа» (название судна)] met a rock marked on no charts. This accident happened around five o’clock in the morning. The officers examined the ocean with the most scrupulous care. They saw nothing, and the Moravia continued on course apparently undamaged. What was it? They were unable to say.

Three weeks later the accident had been reenacted under identical conditions. At 4:17 in the afternoon, when the passengers of the Scotia[9 - the Scotia – «Шотландия» (название судна)] gathered in the main lounge, a collision occurred. At first the passengers were quite frightened, but their Captain hastened to reassure them. There was no immediate danger.

Later the engineers proceeded to inspect the ship, which had been put in dry dock. They couldn’t believe their eyes. Two and a half meters below its waterline, there gaped a symmetrical gash in the shape of an isosceles triangle! This breach in the sheet iron was perfectly formed. It was truly inexplicable.

From this moment on, any maritime casualty without an established cause was charged to the monster’s account. Thanks to the “monster”, travel between the various continents had become more and more dangerous, and the public spoke up and demanded straight out that the seas were to be purged of this fearsome creature at all costs.




Chapter 2


During the period in which these developments were occurring, I had returned from a scientific expedition. Being an Assistant Professor at the Paris Museum of Natural History, I had been attached to this expedition by the French government. After spending six months in Nebraska, I arrived in New York laden with valuable collections near the end of March. My departure for France was set for early May. In the meantime, I was busy classifying my mineralogical, botanical, and zoological treasures. That’s when that incident took place.

I was perfectly abreast of this question, which was the big news of the day. I had read and reread every American and European newspaper. This mystery puzzled me. Finding it impossible to form any views, I drifted from one extreme to the other.

Only two possible solutions to the question were left: on one side, a monster of colossal strength; on the other, an “underwater boat” of tremendous motor power. Although the latter hypothesis was completely admissible, that a private individual had such a mechanism at his disposal was less than probable. Where and when had he built it, and how could he have built it in secret?

Only a few governments could own such an engine of destruction, and it was possible that, unknown to the rest of the world, some nation could have been testing such a fearsome machine. But this hypothesis collapsed in the face of formal denials from the various governments. Since the transoceanic travel was suffering, their sincerity could not be doubted. Besides, how could the assembly of this underwater boat have escaped public notice?

And so the question of the monster surfaced again, and the human imagination soon got caught up in the most ridiculous ichthyological fantasies.

After I arrived in New York, several people did me the honor of consulting me on the phenomenon in question. In France I had published a two-volume work, in quarto, entitled The Mysteries of the Great Ocean Depths. This book had established me as a specialist in this obscure field of natural history. My views were in demand. And I had to explain myself straight out. “The honorable Pierre Aronnax[10 - Pierre Aronnax – Пьер Аронакс], Professor at the Paris Museum,” was summoned by The New York Herald to formulate his views.

Since I could no longer hold my tongue, I discussed the question in its every aspect, both political and scientific, and this is an excerpt from the article I published in the issue of April 30.

“Therefore,” I wrote, “after examining these different hypotheses one by one, we are forced to accept the existence of an extremely powerful marine animal.

“The deepest parts of the ocean are totally unknown to us. What goes on in those distant depths? What creatures inhabit, or could inhabit, those regions twelve or fifteen miles beneath the surface of the water? What is the constitution of these animals?

“We can choose between two alternatives. Either we know every variety of creature populating our planet, or we do not.

“If we do not know every one of them, if nature still keeps ichthyological secrets from us, we must accept the existence of fish or cetaceans of new species or even new genera, animals with a basically ‘cast-iron’ constitution that inhabit strata beyond the reach of our views, and which can come to the upper level of the ocean for long intervals.

“If, on the other hand, we do know every living species, we must look for the animal in question among those marine creatures already cataloged, and in this event I may accept the existence of a giant narwhale.

“The common narwhale, or sea unicorn, often reaches a length of sixty feet. Increase its dimensions fivefold or even tenfold, then give this cetacean a strength in proportion to its size, and you have the animal we’re looking for.

“The narwhale is armed with a sort of ivory sword, or lance, as certain naturalists have expressed it. It’s a king-sized tooth as hard as steel. Imagine this weapon to be ten times stronger and the animal ten times more powerful, and you get just the collision we need to cause the specified catastrophe.

“This inexplicable phenomenon is thus explained away—unless it’s something else entirely, which is still possible!”

These last words were cowardly of me; but I wanted to protect my professorial dignity. I had accepted the existence of “the monster.”

My article was hotly debated, it rallied a number of supporters. Yet if some saw it purely as a scientific problem to be solved, more practical people, especially in America and England, were determined to purge the ocean of this monster, to insure the safety of transoceanic travel. A high-speed frigate, the Abraham Lincoln[11 - the Abraham Lincoln – «Авраам Линкольн» (название судна)], was ready to start as soon as possible.

But, as it always happens, just when a decision had been made to chase the monster, the monster ceased to appear. For two months nobody heard a word about it. Not a single ship encountered it. People were constantly babbling about the creature, even via the Atlantic Cable! Accordingly, the wags claimed that this rascal had got some passing telegram.

So the frigate was equipped for a voyage and armed with fearsome fishing gear, but nobody knew where to steer it. And impatience grew until, on June 2, word came that a steamer on the San Francisco line sailing from California to Shanghai, had sighted the animal again, three weeks before in the northerly seas of the Pacific.

This news caused intense excitement. Not even a 24-hour breather was granted to Commander Farragut[12 - Commander Farragut – капитан Фарагут]. His provisions were loaded on board. His coal bunkers were overflowing. Not a crewman was missing from his post. Commander Farragut wanted nothing more than to go forth.

I received a letter three hours before the Abraham Lincoln left its pier; the letter read as follows:



Pierre Aronnax

Professor at the Paris Museum

Fifth Avenue Hotel

New York



Sir,

If you would like to join the expedition on the Abraham Lincoln, the government of the Union will be pleased to regard you as France’s representative in this undertaking. Commander Farragut has a cabin at your disposal.

Very cordially yours,

    J. B. Hobson,
    Secretary of the Navy.




Chapter 3


Three seconds after reading this letter from the honorable Secretary of the Navy, I understood that my true vocation, my sole purpose in life, was to hunt down this disturbing monster and rid the world of it.

I had just returned from an arduous journey, exhausted and badly needing a rest. I wanted nothing more than to see my country again, my friends, my modest quarters by the Botanical Gardens, my dearly beloved collections! But now nothing could have held me back. I forgot everything else, and without another thought of exhaustion, friends, or collections, I accepted the American government’s offer.

“Besides,” I thought, “all roads lead home to Europe, and our unicorn may be gracious enough to take me toward the coast of France! That fine animal may even let itself be captured in European seas—as a personal favor to me—and I’ll bring back to the Museum of Natural History at least half a meter of its ivory lance! Conseil[13 - Conseil – Консель]!” I called in an impatient voice.

Conseil was my servant. A devoted lad who went with me on all my journeys; a gallant Flemish boy whom I genuinely liked and who returned the compliment; a born stoic, punctilious on principle, hardworking, very skillful with his hands.

In Conseil I had a specialist in biological classification, an enthusiast who could run with acrobatic agility up and down the whole ladder of branches, groups, classes, subclasses, orders, families, genera, subgenera, species, and varieties. Classifying was everything to him, so he knew nothing else. And yet, what a fine, gallant lad he was!

For the past ten years, Conseil had gone with me everywhere. The lad was thirty years old, and I had turned forty.

Conseil had but one flaw. He was a fanatic on formality, and he only addressed me in the third person.

“Conseil!” I repeated, while beginning my preparations for departure. I had confidence in this devoted lad. Ordinarily, I never asked whether or not it suited him to go with me on my journeys; but this time an expedition could drag on indefinitely. What would Conseil say?

“Conseil!” I called a third time.

Conseil appeared.

“Did master summon me?” he said, entering.

“Yes, my boy. Get my things ready, get yours ready. We’re departing in two hours.”

“As master wishes,” Conseil replied serenely.

“We haven’t a moment to lose. Pack as much into my trunk as you can, my traveling kit, my suits, shirts, and socks, just squeeze it all in—and hurry!”

“What about master’s collections?” Conseil observed.

“We’ll deal with them later. The hotel will keep them for us.”

“Then we aren’t returning to Paris?” Conseil asked.

“Yes, we are … certainly … ,” I replied evasively, “but after we make a detour.”

“Whatever detour master wishes.”

“Oh, it’s nothing really! A route slightly less direct, that’s all. We’re leaving on the Abraham Lincoln.”

“As master thinks best,” Conseil replied placidly.

“You see, my friend, we’re going to rid the seas of the monster, the notorious narwhale! It’s a glorious mission but also a dangerous one! We don’t know where it will take us! These beasts can be quite unpredictable!”

“What master does, I’ll do,” Conseil replied.

“But think it over, because I don’t want to hide anything from you. This is one of those voyages from which people don’t always come back!”

“As master wishes.”

A quarter of an hour later, our trunks were ready. Conseil did them in a flash, and I was sure the lad hadn’t missed a thing, because he classified shirts and suits as expertly as birds and mammals.

For a fare of twenty francs, the vehicle went down Broadway to Union Square, took Fourth Ave. to its junction with Bowery St., turned into Katrin St. and halted at Pier 34. There the ferry transferred men, horses, and carriage to Brooklyn, and in a few minutes we arrived at the wharf next to which the Abraham Lincoln was vomiting torrents of black smoke from its two funnels.

Our baggage was immediately carried to the deck of the frigate. I rushed aboard and asked for Commander Farragut. One of the sailors led me to the afterdeck. I saw a smart-looking officer who extended his hand to me.

“Professor Pierre Aronnax?” he said to me.

“The same[14 - the same – он самый],” I replied. “Commander Farragut?”

“In person. Welcome aboard, professor. Your cabin is waiting for you.”

I bowed, and I was taken to the cabin.

The Abraham Lincoln was a high-speed frigate furnished with superheating equipment. Under the pressure it reached an average speed of 18.3 miles per hour, a considerable speed, but still not enough to cope with our gigantic cetacean.

I was satisfied with my cabin, which was located in the stern.

“We’ll be quite comfortable here,” I told Conseil.

I climbed on deck to watch the preparations for getting under way. If I’d been delayed by a quarter of an hour or even less, the frigate would have gone without me, and I would have missed out on this unearthly, extraordinary, and inconceivable expedition.

But Commander Farragut didn’t want to waste a single day, or even a single hour, in making for those seas where the animal had just been sighted.

“Go ahead!” Commander Farragut called.




Chapter 4


Commander Farragut was a good seaman, worthy of the frigate he commanded. His ship and he were one. He was its very soul. He believed in cetacean as certain pious women believe in the leviathan from the Book of Job[15 - the Book of Job – «Книга Иова»]—out of faith, not reason. The monster existed, and he had vowed to rid the seas of it. Either Commander Farragut would slay the narwhale, or the narwhale would slay Commander Farragut. No middle of the road for these two.

The ship’s officers shared the views of their leader. They were chatting, discussing, arguing, calculating the different chances of an encounter, and observing the vast expanse of the ocean.

As for the crew, they only wanted to encounter the unicorn, harpoon it, haul it on board, and carve it up. They surveyed the sea with scrupulous care. Besides, Commander Farragut had mentioned that a certain sum of $2,000 was waiting for the man who first sighted the animal, be he cabin boy or sailor, mate or officer.

As I said, Commander Farragut had carefully equipped his ship with all the gear needed to fish for a gigantic cetacean. No vessel could have been better armed. We had every known mechanism. On the forecastle was mounted the latest model cannon, a weapon that figured in the Universal Exhibition of 1867.

Moreover, the Abraham Lincoln had Ned Land[16 - Ned Land – Нед Ленд], the King of Harpooners. Gifted with uncommon manual ability, Ned Land was a Canadian who had no equal in his dangerous trade. Dexterity, coolness, bravery, and cunning were virtues he possessed to a high degree. He was about forty years old. A man of great height, he was powerfully built, serious in manner, not very sociable, sometimes headstrong, and quite ill-tempered when crossed.

Commander Farragut, to my thinking, had made a wise move in hiring on this man. With his eye and his throwing arm, he was worth the whole crew all by himself. I can compare him with a powerful telescope that could serve as a cannon always ready to fire.

To say Canadian is to say French. No doubt it was my nationality that attracted him. It was an opportunity for him to speak, and for me to hear, that old dialect still used in some Canadian provinces.

Little by little Ned developed a taste for chatting, and I loved hearing the tales of his adventures in the polar seas. He described his fishing trips and his battles with great natural lyricism.

I’m writing of this bold companion as I currently know him. Ah, my gallant Ned! I ask only to live 100 years more, the longer to remember you!

And now, what were Ned Land’s views on this question of a marine monster? I must admit that he flatly didn’t believe in the unicorn, and he didn’t share the general conviction.

Three weeks after our departure we had crossed the Tropic of Capricorn, and the Strait of Magellan opened less than 700 miles to the south. Seated on the afterdeck, Ned Land and I chatted about one thing and another, staring at that mysterious sea whose depths to this day are beyond the reach of human eyes.

“Ned,” I asked him, “how can you still doubt the reality of this cetacean? Do you have any particular reasons for being so skeptical?”

The harpooner stared at me awhile before replying, closed his eyes as if to collect himself, and finally said:

“Just maybe, Professor Aronnax.”

“But Ned, you’re a professional whaler, a man familiar with all the great marine mammals—your mind should easily accept this hypothesis of an enormous cetacean!”

“That’s just where you’re mistaken, professor,” Ned replied. “The common man may still believe in fabulous comets crossing outer space, or in prehistoric monsters living at the earth’s core, but astronomers and geologists don’t swallow such fairy tales. It’s the same with whalers. I’ve chased plenty of cetaceans, I’ve harpooned a good number, I’ve killed several. But no matter how powerful and well armed they were, neither their tails or their tusks could puncture the sheet-iron plates of a steamer.”

“Listen to me, Ned—”

“No, no, professor. Some gigantic devilfish maybe…?”

“Even less likely, Ned. The devilfish is merely a mollusk. Even if it were 500 feet long, it would still be utterly harmless to ships like the Abraham Lincoln.”

“So, Mr. Naturalist,” Ned Land continued in a bantering tone, “you believe in the existence of some enormous cetacean?”

“Yes, Ned, I repeat it. I believe in the existence of a mammal with a powerful constitution, and armed with a tusk made of horn that has tremendous penetrating power.”

“Humph!” the harpooner shook his head.

“Note well,” I went on, “if such an animal exists, if it lives deep in the ocean, it needs to have a constitution so solid, it defies all comparison.”

“And why this powerful constitution?” Ned asked.

“Because it takes incalculable strength just to live in those deep strata and withstand their pressure.”

“Oh really?” Ned said.

“Oh really, and I can prove it to you with a few simple figures.”

“Oh!” Ned replied. “You can make figures do anything you want!”

“In business, Ned, but not in mathematics. Listen to me. If such animals don’t exist, my stubborn harpooner, how do you explain the accident that happened to the Scotia?”

“It’s maybe … ,” Ned said, hesitating.

“Go on!”

“Because … it just couldn’t be true!” the Canadian replied.

But this reply proved nothing. That day I pressed him no further. The Scotia’s accident was undeniable. Its hole was real enough, and I don’t think a hole’s existence can be more emphatically proven. This hole didn’t make itself, and since it hadn’t resulted from underwater rocks or underwater machines, it must have been caused by the perforating tool of some animal.




Chapter 5


Near three o’clock in the afternoon on July 6, fifteen miles south of shore, the Abraham Lincoln doubled that solitary islet at the tip of the South American continent. Our course was set for the northwest, and the next day our frigate was in the waters of the Pacific.

Day and night we observed the surface of the ocean. The weather was good. Our voyage was proceeding under the most favorable conditions. July in this zone corresponds to our January in Europe; but the sea remained smooth and easily visible.

Ned Land spent eight hours out of every twelve reading or sleeping in his cabin. A hundred times I chided him for his unconcern.

“Bah!” he replied. “Nothing’s out there, Professor Aronnax, can’t you see we’re just wandering around at random? People say they’ve seen this slippery beast again in the Pacific seas—I want to believe it, but two months have already gone by since then! So if the beast does exist, it’s already long gone!”

I had no reply to this. Obviously we were just groping blindly. But how else could we go? Our chances were pretty limited. Yet everyone still felt confident of success.

We were finally in the area of the monster’s latest activity! The entire crew suffered from a nervous excitement that it’s beyond me to describe. Nobody ate, nobody slept. A reaction was expected to follow.

And this reaction wasn’t long in coming. For three months, during which each day seemed like a century, the Abraham Lincoln plowed all the northerly seas of the Pacific. And we found nothing!

At first, discouragement took hold of people’s minds, opening the door to disbelief. The crew called themselves “out-and-out fools”. With typical human fickleness, they jumped from one extreme to the other. Inevitably, the most enthusiastic supporters of the undertaking became its most energetic opponents.

And this futile search couldn’t drag on much longer. The Abraham Lincoln had done everything it could to succeed and had no reason to blame itself. The crew weren’t responsible for this failure; there was nothing to do but go home.

The commander’s sailors couldn’t hide their discontent, and their work suffered because of it.

Commander Farragut asked for a grace period [17 - a grace period – отсрочка]of just three days more. After this three-day delay, if the monster hadn’t appeared, the Abraham Lincoln would chart a course toward the European seas.

This promise was given on November 2. It had the immediate effect of reviving the crew’s failing spirits. The ocean was observed with renewed care. Spyglasses functioned with feverish energy.

Two days passed. The ship stayed at half steam. A thousand methods were used to spark the animal’s interest or rouse it from its apathy.

At noon the next day, November 5, the delay expired. By then the frigate lay in latitude 31 degrees 15’ north and longitude 136 degrees 42’ east. The shores of Japan were less than 200 miles to our leeward. Night was coming on. Eight o’clock had just struck. Huge clouds covered the moon’s disk.

Just then I was leaning over the starboard rail. Conseil stared straight ahead. Observing Conseil, I discovered that, just barely, the gallant lad had fallen under the general influence. At least so I thought. Perhaps his nerves were twitching with curiosity for the first time in history.

“Come on, Conseil!” I told him. “Here’s your last chance to get $2,000!”

“If master will permit my saying so,” Conseil replied, “I never expected to win that prize, and the Union government could have promised $100,000 and been none the poorer.”

“You’re right, Conseil, it turned out to be a foolish business after all, and we jumped into it too hastily. What a waste of time! Six months ago we could have been back in France—”

“In master’s little apartment,” Conseil answered. “In master’s museum! And by now I would have classified master’s fossils.”

“Quite so, Conseil, and what’s more, I imagine that people will soon be laughing at us!”

Conseil didn’t have time to answer. A voice became audible. It was Ned Land’s voice, and it shouted:

“Ahoy! There’s the thing, abreast of us to leeward!”




Chapter 6


At this shout the entire crew rushed toward the harpooner—commander, officers, mates, sailors, cabin boys, down to engineers leaving their machinery and stokers neglecting their furnaces. The order was given to stop.

Ned Land was not mistaken, and we all saw the object his hand was indicating. Not far from the Abraham Lincoln, the sea was lit up from underneath. This was no mere phosphorescent phenomenon. The monster gave off that very intense but inexplicable glow that several captains had mentioned in their reports. This magnificent radiance had to come from some force with a great illuminating capacity.

A universal shout went up from the frigate.

“Quiet!” Commander Farragut said. “Reverse engines!”

Sailors rushed to the helm, engineers to their machinery.

“Right your helm![18 - Right your helm! – Право руля!] Engines forward!” Commander Farragut called.

These orders were executed. The frigate wanted to retreat, but the unearthly animal came at us with a speed double our own.

We gasped. More stunned than afraid, we stood mute and motionless. The animal played with us. It made a full circle around the frigate and wrapped us in sheets of electricity that were like luminous dust. Then it retreated two or three miles, leaving a phosphorescent trail. Suddenly the monster abruptly dashed toward the ship with frightening speed, stopped sharply twenty feet from us, and died out. Then it reappeared on the other side of the ship.

Meanwhile I was astonished at the frigate’s maneuvers. It was not fighting. Built to pursue, it was being pursued, and I commented on this to Commander Farragut. His face, ordinarily so emotionless, was stamped with indescribable astonishment.

“Professor Aronnax,” he answered me, “I don’t know what kind of fearsome creature I see, and I don’t want my frigate running foolish risks in all this darkness. Besides, how should we attack this unknown creature, how should we defend ourselves against it? Let’s wait for daylight, and then we’ll play a different role.”

“You’ve no further doubts, commander, as to the nature of this animal?”

“No, sir, it’s apparently a gigantic narwhale, and an electric one. It’s surely the most dreadful animal ever conceived by our Creator.”

The whole crew stayed on their feet all night long. No one even thought of sleeping. Unable to compete with the monster’s speed, the Abraham Lincoln slowed down. The narwhale mimicked the frigate, simply rode with the waves.

However, near midnight it disappeared, or to use a more appropriate expression, “it went out,” like a huge glowworm. Had it fled from us?

At 12:53 in the morning, a deafening hiss became audible, resembling the sound made by a waterspout expelled with tremendous intensity.

“Ned Land,” the commander asked, “you’ve often heard whales bellowing?”

“Often, sir, but never a whale like this, whose sighting earned me $2,000.”

“Correct, the prize is rightfully yours. But tell me, isn’t that the noise cetaceans make when they spurt water from their blowholes?”

“The very noise, sir, but this one’s way louder. So there can be no mistake. There’s definitely a whale lurking in our waters. With your permission, sir,” the harpooner added, “tomorrow at daybreak we’ll have words with it.”

“If it’s in a mood to listen to you, Mr. Land,” I replied in a tone far from convinced.

Near two o’clock in the morning, the core of light reappeared, no less intense, five miles to windward of the Abraham Lincoln. Despite the distance, despite the noise of wind and sea, we could distinctly hear the animal’s panting breath. Seemingly, the moment this enormous narwhale came up to breathe at the surface of the ocean, air was sucked into its lungs like steam into the huge cylinders.

“Hmm!” I said to myself. “Now that’s a whale of a whale!”

We stayed on the alert until daylight, getting ready for action. Our chief officer loaded the blunderbusses. Ned Land sharpened his harpoon, a dreadful weapon in his hands.

At six o’clock day began to break, and with the dawn’s early light, the narwhale’s electric glow disappeared. At seven o’clock a very dense morning mist shrank the horizon, and our best spyglasses were unable to pierce it. The outcome: disappointment and anger.

At eight o’clock the horizon grew wider and clearer all at once. Suddenly, just as on the previous evening, Ned Land’s voice was audible.

“There’s the thing, astern to port!” the harpooner shouted.

Every eye looked toward the point indicated.

There, a mile and a half from the frigate, a long blackish body emerged a meter above the waves. Its tail was creating a considerable eddy.

Our frigate drew nearer to the cetacean. I put its length at only 250 feet. Its girth was more difficult to judge, but the animal seemed to be wonderfully proportioned in all three dimensions.

While I was observing this phenomenal creature, two jets of steam and water sprang from its blowholes and rose to an altitude of forty meters.

The crew were waiting impatiently for orders from their leader. The latter, after carefully observing the animal, called for his engineer.

“Clap on full steam![19 - Clap on full steam! – Дать полный ход!]” the commander said.

“Aye, sir,” the engineer replied.

Three cheers greeted this order. The hour of battle had sounded. A few moments later, the frigate’s two funnels vomited torrents of black smoke.

Driven forward by its powerful propeller, the Abraham Lincoln headed straight for the animal. Unconcerned, the latter let us come within half a cable length; then it got up a little speed, retreated, and kept its distance.

This chase dragged on for about three-quarters of an hour, but it was useless. At this rate, it was obvious that we would never catch up with it.

“Ned Land!” Commander Farragut called.

The Canadian reported at once.

“Well, Mr. Land,” the commander asked, “do you still advise putting my longboats to sea?”

“No, sir,” Ned Land replied, “because that beast won’t be caught against its will.”

“Then what should we do?”

“If we can get within a harpoon length, I’ll harpoon the brute.”

“Go to it, Ned,” Commander Farragut replied.

Ned Land made his way to his post. We verified that our ship was going at the rate of 18.5 miles per hour. But that damned animal also did a speed of 18.5. This was humiliating for one of the fastest ships in the American navy.

What a chase! No, I can’t describe the excitement that shook my very being. Ned Land stayed at his post, harpoon in hand. Several times the animal let us approach. But by noon we were no farther along than at eight o’clock in the morning.

Commander Farragut then decided to use more direct methods.

“Bah!” he said. “So that animal is faster than us. All right, we’ll see if it can outrun our conical shells[20 - conical shells – конические бомбы]!

The cannoneer fired a shot, but his shell passed some feet above the cetacean, which stayed half a mile off.

“$500 to the man who can pierce that infernal beast!” the Commander shouted

An old gray-bearded gunner approached the cannon, put it in position, and took aim. There was a mighty explosion, mingled with cheers from the crew.

The shell reached its target; it hit the animal, but not in the usual fashion—it bounced off that rounded surface and vanished into the sea two miles out.

“Oh!” said the old gunner in his anger. “That rascal must be covered with six-inch armor plate!”

“Curse the beast!” Commander Farragut shouted.

The hunt was on again, and Commander Farragut leaned over to me, saying:

“I’ll chase that animal till my frigate explodes!”

“Yes,” I replied, “and nobody would blame you!”

We could still hope that the animal would tire out. But no such luck. Hour after hour went by without it showing the least sign of weariness.

Night fell and wrapped the surging ocean in its shadows. By then I thought our expedition had come to an end, that we would never see this fantastic animal again. I was mistaken.

At 10:50 in the evening, that electric light reappeared, just as clear and intense as the night before. The narwhale seemed motionless. Was it asleep perhaps, weary from its workday, just riding with the waves? This was our chance, and Commander Farragut was determined to take full advantage of it. He gave his orders.

Ned Land went to resume his post. The frigate approached without making a sound, stopped two cable lengths from the animal. Not a soul breathed on board. A profound silence reigned over the deck.

Just then I saw Ned Land below me, one hand grasping the martingale, the other brandishing his dreadful harpoon. Barely twenty feet separated him from the motionless animal.

All at once his arm shot forward and the harpoon was launched. I heard the weapon collide resonantly, as if it had hit some hard substance.

The electric light suddenly went out, and two enormous waterspouts crashed onto the deck of the frigate, racing like a torrent, toppling crewmen, breaking masts.

A hideous collision occurred, and thrown over the rail, I was hurled into the sea.




Chapter 7


Although I was startled by this unexpected descent, I have a very clear recollection of my sensations during it.

At first I was dragged about twenty feet under. I’m a good swimmer, and I didn’t lose my head [21 - I didn’t lose my head – я не растерялся]on the way down. With two vigorous kicks, I came back to the surface of the sea.

My first concern was to look for the frigate. Had the crew seen me? Would Commander Farragut put a longboat to sea? Could I hope to be rescued?

The gloom was profound. I saw a black mass disappearing eastward, where its running lights were fading out in the distance. It was the frigate.

“Help! Help!” I shouted, swimming desperately toward the Abraham Lincoln.

My clothes were weighing me down. The water glued them to my body, it was paralyzing my movements. I was sinking! I was suffocating!

“Help!”

This was the last shout I gave. My mouth was filling with water.

Suddenly my clothes were seized by energetic hands, somebody pulled me abruptly back to the surface of the sea, and yes, I heard these words pronounced in my ear:

“If master would oblige me by leaning on my shoulder, master will swim with much greater ease.”

With one hand I seized the arm of my loyal Conseil.

“You!” I said. “You!”

“Myself,” Conseil replied, “and at master’s command.”

“That collision threw you overboard along with me?”

“Not at all. But I followed master.”

The fine lad!

“What about the frigate?” I asked.

“The frigate?” Conseil replied, rolling over on his back. “Just as I jumped overboard, I heard the men at the helm shout, ‘Our propeller and rudder are smashed!’”

“Smashed?”

“Yes, smashed by the monster’s tusk! I believe it’s the sole injury the Abraham Lincoln has sustained. But most inconveniently for us, the ship can no longer steer. However, we still have a few hours before us, and in a few hours one can do a great many things!”

Conseil’s composure cheered me up. I swam more vigorously.

Our circumstances were dreadful. Perhaps they hadn’t seen us go overboard; and even if they had, the frigate couldn’t return to leeward after us. So we could count only on its longboats.

I decided to divide our energies so we wouldn’t both be worn out at the same time: while one of us lay on his back, staying motionless with arms crossed and legs outstretched, the other would swim and propel his partner forward.

I calculated on eight hours of swimming until sunrise. A strenuous task, but feasible, thanks to our relieving each other. The sea was pretty smooth and barely tired us.

Near one o’clock in the morning, I was overcome with tremendous exhaustion. And I soon heard the poor Conseil gasping; his breathing became shallow and quick. I didn’t think he could stand such exertions for much longer.

“Go on! Go on!” I told him.

“Leave master behind?” he replied. “Never!”

The moon appeared. The surface of the sea glistened under its rays. I held up my head. I saw the frigate. It was five miles from us and formed a dark, barely perceptible mass. But as for longboats, not a one in sight!

I tried to call out. What was the use at such a distance! My swollen lips wouldn’t let a single sound through. Conseil could still articulate a few words, and I heard him repeat at intervals:

“Help! Help!”

We listened. And it may have been a ringing in my ear, but it seemed to me that Conseil’s shout had received an answer back.

“Did you hear that?” I muttered.

“Yes, yes!”

And Conseil hurled another desperate plea into space.

This time there could be no mistake! A human voice had answered us! Was it the voice of some other victim of that collision suffered by our ship? Or was it one of the frigate’s longboats, hailing us out of the gloom?

Conseil made one final effort, he raised himself half out of the water, then fell back exhausted.

“What did you see?”

“I saw … ,” he muttered, “I saw … but we mustn’t talk … save our strength … !”

What had he seen? Conseil kept towing me. Sometimes he looked up, stared straight ahead, and shouted a request for directions, which was answered by a voice that was getting closer and closer. I could barely hear it. I was at the end of my strength; my fingers gave out; my hands were no help to me; my mouth opened convulsively, filling with brine. I raised my head one last time, then I fainted.



Someone was massaging me vigorously. I half opened my eyes.

“Conseil!” I muttered.

Just then, in the last light of a moon, I saw a face that wasn’t Conseil’s but which I recognized at once.

“Ned!” I exclaimed.

“In person, sir, and still after his prize!” the Canadian replied.

“You were thrown overboard after the frigate’s collision?”

“Yes, professor, but I was luckier than you, and right away I was able to set foot on this floating islet.”

“Islet?”

“Or in other words, on our gigantic narwhale.”

“Explain yourself, Ned.”

“It’s just that I soon realized why my harpoon couldn’t puncture its hide.”

“Why, Ned, why?”

“Because, professor, this beast is made of steel!”

The Canadian’s last words caused a sudden upheaval in my brain. I swiftly hoisted myself to the summit of this half-submerged creature or object that was serving as our refuge. I tested it with my foot. Obviously it was some hard, impenetrable substance, not the soft matter that makes up the bodies of our big marine mammals.

The blackish back supporting me was smooth and polished. And it was made of riveted plates[22 - riveted plates – листовое железо].

No doubts were possible! This animal, this monster, this natural phenomenon that had puzzled the whole scientific world, was an even more astonishing phenomenon—a phenomenon made by the hand of man.

Even if I had discovered that some fabulous, mythological creature really existed, it wouldn’t have given me such a terrific mental jolt.

There was no question now. We were lying on the back of some kind of underwater boat that boasted the shape of an immense steel fish.

“But then,” I said, “does this contraption contain some sort of locomotive mechanism, and a crew to run it?”

“Apparently,” the harpooner replied. “And yet for the three hours I’ve lived on this floating island, it hasn’t shown a sign of life.”

“This boat hasn’t moved at all?”

“No, Professor Aronnax. It just rides with the waves.”

“But we know that it’s certainly gifted with great speed. Now then, since an engine is needed to generate that speed, and a mechanic to run that engine, I conclude: we’re saved.”

“Humph!” Ned Land muttered. “As long as it swims, I’ve no complaints. But if it dives, I wouldn’t give $2.00 for my life!”

So it was imperative to make contact with someone inside the plating of this machine. I searched its surface for an opening or a hatch; but the lines of rivets were straight and uniform.

Moreover, the moon then disappeared and left us in profound darkness. We had to wait for daylight to find some way of getting inside this underwater boat.

Near four o’clock in the morning, the submersible picked up speed. We could barely cope with this dizzying rush.

Finally the long night was over. I thought I heard indistinct sounds, a sort of elusive harmony produced by distant musical chords. What beings lived inside this strange boat? What mechanical force allowed it to move about with such prodigious speed?

Daylight appeared. The morning mists surrounded us. I was about to proceed with a careful examination of the hull, when I felt it sinking little by little.

“Oh, damnation!” Ned Land shouted, stamping his foot on the resonant sheet iron. “Open up there, you navigators!”

Fortunately this submerging movement stopped. From inside the boat, there suddenly came noises of iron fastenings. One of the steel plates flew up, a man appeared, gave a bizarre yell, and instantly disappeared.

A few moments later, eight fellows appeared silently, their faces like masks, and dragged us down into their fearsome machine.




Chapter 8


This capture was carried out with lightning speed. My companions and I had no time to collect ourselves. I don’t know how they felt, but as for me, I was shivering all over. With whom were we dealing? Surely with some pirates.

The narrow hatch had barely closed over me when I was surrounded by profound darkness. I felt my naked feet clinging to the steps of an iron ladder. Ned Land and Conseil were behind me. At the foot of the ladder, a door opened and instantly closed behind us.

We were alone. Where? I couldn’t say, I couldn’t even imagine. All was darkness.

“Damnation!” Ned Land exclaimed. “These people are not very hospitable! I wouldn’t be surprised if they were cannibals!”

“Calm yourself, Ned my friend,” Conseil replied serenely. “We aren’t in a kettle yet!”

“In a kettle, no,” the Canadian shot back, “but in an oven for sure. Luckily my knife hasn’t left me, and I can still see well enough to use it. The first one of these bandits who lays a hand on me—”

“Don’t be so irritable, Ned,” I then told the harpooner, “and don’t ruin things for us. Who knows whether they might be listening to us? Instead, let’s try to find out where we are!”

Half an hour had already gone by without our situation changing, when our eyes saw blinding light. Our prison lit up all at once. I recognized the electric glow.

“Finally! It’s light enough to see!” Ned Land exclaimed, knife in hand.

“Yes,” I replied. “But as for our situation, we’re still in the dark.”

“Master must learn patience,” said the emotionless Conseil.

This sudden illumination of our cabin enabled me to examine its details. It contained only a table and five stools. Its invisible door must have been hermetically sealed. Not a sound reached our ears. Everything seemed dead inside this boat. Was it in motion, or stationary on the surface of the ocean, or sinking into the depths? I couldn’t tell.

A door opened, and two men appeared. One was short and stocky, powerfully muscled, broad shouldered, robust of limbs, the hair black and luxuriant, the mustache heavy, the eyes bright and penetrating.

The second stranger was a man of great pride, his calm, firm gaze seemed to reflect thinking on an elevated plane. Whether this individual was thirty-five or fifty years of age, I could not precisely state. He was tall, his forehead broad, his nose straight, his mouth clearly etched, his teeth magnificent, his hands refined. One unusual detail: his eyes were spaced a little far from each other and could instantly take in nearly a quarter of the horizon.

Wearing caps made of sea-otter fur, and shod in sealskin fishing boots, these two strangers were dressed in clothing made from some unique fabric that allowed great freedom of movement.

The taller of the two—apparently the leader on board—examined us with the greatest care but without pronouncing a word. Then, turning to his companion, he conversed with him in a language I didn’t recognize. It was a sonorous, harmonious, flexible dialect.

The other replied with a shake of the head and added two or three incomprehensible words. Then he looked at me.

I replied in clear French that I wasn’t familiar with his language; but he didn’t seem to understand me.

“Still, master should tell our story,” Conseil said to me. “Perhaps these gentlemen will grasp a few words of it!”

I tried again, telling the tale of our adventures, clearly articulating my every syllable, and not leaving out a single detail. I stated our names and titles; then, in order, I introduced myself, Professor Aronnax, my servant Conseil, and Mr. Ned Land, harpooner.

The man with calm, gentle eyes listened to me serenely, even courteously, and paid remarkable attention. But nothing indicated that he understood my story. When I finished, he didn’t pronounce a single word.

One resource still left was to speak English. Perhaps they would be familiar with this nearly universal language.

“Come on, it’s your turn,” I told the harpooner. “Mr. Land. Try for a more favorable result than mine.”

Ned started our story all over again. Its content was the same, but the form differed. Carried away by his volatile temperament, the Canadian complained vehemently about being imprisoned in defiance of his civil rights. And he added that we were dying of hunger. This was perfectly true, but we had nearly forgotten the fact.

Our visitors didn’t not say a word. I no longer knew what tactic to pursue, when Conseil told me:

“If master will authorize me, I’ll tell the whole business in German.”

“What! You know German?” I exclaimed.

“Like most Flemish people, with all due respect to master.”

And Conseil, in his serene voice, described for the third time our story. But despite our narrator’s fine accent, the German language met with no success.

Finally, as a last resort, I tried to narrate our adventures in Latin. With the same negative result.

The two strangers exchanged a few words in their incomprehensible language and withdrew. The door closed again.

“This is outrageous!” Ned Land shouted. “We speak French, English, German, and Latin to theserogues, and neither of them has the decency to even answer back!”

“Calm down, Ned,” I told the seething harpooner. “Anger won’t get us anywhere. We mustn’t despair. Let us wait a bit before we form our views on the commander and crew of this boat.”

“My views are fully formed,” Ned Land shot back. “They’re rogues!”

“Oh good! And from what country?”

“Roguedom!”

“My gallant Ned, that country isn’t clearly marked on maps of the world. What is the nationality of these two strangers? Neither English, French, nor German, that’s all we can say. But there must be southern blood in them. Probably they’re Spaniards, Turks, Arabs, or East Indians. And as for their speech, it’s incomprehensible.”

The door opened. A steward entered. He brought us some clothes, jackets and sailor’s pants, made out of a fabric whose nature I didn’t recognize. We hurried to change into them.

Meanwhile our silent steward, perhaps a deaf-mute, set the table and laid three place settings.

Overlaid with silver dish covers, various platters had been neatly positioned on the table cloth, and we sat down to eat. Assuredly, we were dealing with civilized people. The water was fresh and clear. Among the foods we were served, I was able to identify various fish. As for the tableware, it was elegant and in perfect taste. Each utensil, spoon, fork, knife, and plate, bore on its reverse a letter encircled by a Latin motto:



Mobilis in mobili[23 - Mobilis in mobili – Подвижный в подвижном]

N


Moving within the moving element! It was a highly appropriate motto for this underwater machine. The letter N was no doubt the initial of the name of that mystifying individual in command beneath the seas!

Our appetites appeased, we felt an urgent need for sleep. A natural reaction after that interminable night of fighting for our lives.

My two companions lay down on the cabin’s carpeting and were soon deep in slumber.

As for me, too many thoughts had piled up in my mind, too many insoluble questions had arisen, too many images were keeping my eyelids open! Where were we? What strange power was carrying us along? Then my mind grew calmer, my imagination melted into hazy drowsiness, and I soon fell into an uneasy slumber.




Chapter 9


I had gotten up from my passably hard mattress when I felt my mind clear. So I began a careful reexamination of our cell.

Nothing had changed in its interior arrangements. The prison was still a prison and its prisoners still prisoners. But the steward had cleared the table. Consequently, nothing indicated any forthcoming improvement in our situation, and I seriously wondered if we were doomed to spend the rest of our lives in this cage.

It was becoming hard for me to breathe. The heavy air was no longer sufficient for my lungs. Although our cell was large, we obviously had used up most of the oxygen it contained.

So it was now urgent to renew the air in our prison, and no doubt the air in this whole underwater boat as well.

How did the commander of this aquatic residence get fresh air? Did he obtain air using chemical methods, releasing the oxygen contained in potassium chlorate by heating it? If so, he would have to keep up some kind of relationship with the shore.

Suddenly I was refreshed by a current of clean air, scented with a salty aroma. It had to be a sea breeze, life-giving and charged with iodine! I opened my mouth wide. This boat, this sheet-iron monster, had obviously just risen to the surface of the ocean. So the ship’s mode of ventilation was finally established.

Ned and Conseil woke up almost simultaneously, under the influence of this reviving air purification. They rubbed their eyes, stretched their arms, and sprang to their feet.

“Did master sleep well?” Conseil asked me.

“Extremely well, my gallant lad,” I replied. “And how about you, Mr. Ned Land?”

“Like a log, professor. But it seems like I’m breathing a sea breeze!”

A seaman couldn’t be wrong on this topic, and I told the Canadian what had gone on while he slept.

“Good!” he said. “That explains perfectly everything. But I’ve no idea what time it is, Professor Aronnax, maybe it’s dinnertime?”

“Dinnertime, my fine harpooner? I’d say at least breakfast time, because we’ve certainly woken up to a new day.”

“Which indicates,” Conseil replied, “that we’ve spent twenty-four hours in slumber.”

“That’s my assessment,” I replied.

“I won’t argue with you,” Ned Land answered. “But dinner or breakfast, that steward will be plenty welcome whether he brings the one or the other.”

“The one and the other,” Conseil said.

“Well,” the Canadian replied. “We deserve two meals.”

“All right, Ned, let’s wait and see!” I replied. “It’s clear that these strangers don’t intend to let us die of hunger.”

“Unless they’re fattening us up!” Ned shot back.

“I object,” I replied. “We have not fallen into the hands of cannibals.”

“Who knows?” the Canadian replied in all seriousness. “Maybe these people have gone without fresh meat for a long while, and in that case three healthy, well-built specimens like the professor, his servant, and me—”

“Get rid of those ideas, Mr. Land,” I answered the harpooner.

“Anyhow,” the harpooner said, “I’m hungry!”

“Mr. Land,” I answered, “we have to adapt to the schedule on board, and I imagine our stomachs are running ahead of the chief cook’s dinner bell.”

“Well then, we’ll adjust our stomachs to the chef’s timetable!” Conseil replied serenely.

“Conseil my friend!” the impatient Canadian shot back. “You’re so calm! You’d starve to death rather than complain!”

“Let’s wait,” I said. “Let’s be guided by events, and let’s do nothing, since right now there’s nothing we can do.”

“On the contrary, professor,” the harpooner replied. “There is something we can do.”

“Oh? And what, Mr. Land?”

“Break out of here![24 - Break out of here! – Бежать отсюда!]”

“Breaking out of a prison on shore is difficult enough, but with an underwater prison, it is completely impossible.”

The harpooner said nothing. Under the conditions in which fate had left us, it was absolutely impossible to escape.

“So, Professor Aronnax,” Ned Land went on after thinking for a few moments, “you haven’t figured out what people do when they can’t escape from their prison?”

“No, my friend.”

“Easy. They kick out all the jailers, guards, and wardens,” Ned Land added.

“What’s this, Ned?” I asked. “You’d seriously consider it?”

“Very seriously,” the Canadian replied.

“It’s impossible.”

“And why is that, sir? Some promising opportunity might come up, and I don’t see what could stop us from taking advantage of it!”

Then our conversation finished, and each of us withdrew into his own thoughts. For my part, I had no faith in those promising opportunities that Ned Land mentioned. Besides, before we could do anything, we had to be free, and that we definitely were not.

Ned Land’s hunger was getting him madder and madder. He stood up, pacing in circles like a wild beast in a cage, striking the walls with his foot and fist. Meanwhile the hours passed, our hunger nagged unmercifully, and this time the steward did not appear.

For two more hours Ned Land’s rage increased. The Canadian shouted and pleaded, but the sheet-iron walls were deaf. I didn’t hear a single sound inside this boat. The vessel had undoubtedly sunk into the watery deep and no longer belonged to the outside world.

A noise was audible outside. The locks were turned, the door opened, and the steward appeared.

Before I could make a single movement to prevent him, the Canadian rushed at the poor man, threw him down, held him by the throat.

Conseil was already trying to loosen the harpooner’s hands from his half-suffocated victim, and I had gone to join him, when I heard these words pronounced in French:

“Calm down, Mr. Land! And you, professor, kindly listen to me!”




Chapter 10


It was the ship’s commander who had just spoken. At these words Ned Land stood up quickly. In silence we waited for the outcome of this scene; Conseil seemed almost fascinated, I was stunned.

Arms crossed, leaning against a corner of the table, the commander studied us with great care. Did he regret those words he had just pronounced in French? You would have thought so.

“Gentlemen,” he said in a calm, penetrating voice, “I speak French, English, German, and Latin with equal fluency. Hence I could have answered you as early as our initial interview, but first I wanted to make your acquaintance. Your four versions of the same narrative established your personal identities for me. Now I know you: Professor Pierre Aronnax, specialist in natural history at the Paris Museum and entrusted with a scientific mission abroad, his servant Conseil, and Ned Land, a harpooner of Canadian origin aboard the Abraham Lincoln, a frigate in the national navy of the United States of America.”

I bowed in agreement. The commander hadn’t put a question to me. This man expressed himself with perfect ease and without a trace of an accent. His words were well chosen.

He went on:

“I had great difficulty deciding to talk to you. I am the man who has cut himself off from humanity. Your coming has disrupted my whole existence.”

“Unintentionally,” I said.

“Unintentionally?” the stranger replied, raising his voice a little. “Was it unintentionally that the Abraham Lincoln hunted me on every sea? Was it unintentionally that you traveled aboard that frigate? Was it unintentionally that Mr. Ned Land hit me with his harpoon?”

I detected a controlled irritation in these words.

“Sir,” I said, “you’re surely unaware of the discussions that have taken place in Europe and America with yourself as the subject. You don’t realize that various accidents, caused by collisions with your underwater machine, have aroused public passions on those two continents. We’ve tried to explain this inexplicable phenomenon, whose secret is yours alone. But please understand that the Abraham Lincoln chased you over the Pacific high seas in the belief it was hunting some powerful marine monster.”

A half smile curled the commander’s lips. He said, in a calmer tone:

“Professor Aronnax,” he replied, “do you believe that your frigate wouldn’t have chased and cannonaded an underwater boat as readily as a monster?”

This question baffled me, since Commander Farragut would certainly have shown no such hesitation.

“So you understand, sir,” the stranger went on, “that I have a right to treat you as my enemy.”

I kept quiet.

“Nothing obliged me to grant you hospitality,” the commander went on. “I could sink under the sea, and I could forget you ever existed. Wouldn’t that be my right?”

“Perhaps it would be the right of a savage,” I replied. “But not that of a civilized man.”

“Professor,” the commander replied swiftly, “I’m not what you term a civilized man! I’ve severed all ties with society. Therefore I obey none of its regulations.”

This man had rendered himself independent, out of all reach, free in the strictest sense of the word! No man could call him to account for his actions. These thoughts swiftly crossed my mind.

After a long silence, the commander went on with our conversation.

“But since fate has brought you here,” he said. “you’ll stay aboard my vessel. You’ll be free here, and in exchange for that freedom, I’ll lay on you just one condition. Your word that you’ll submit to it will be sufficient.”

“Go on, sir,” I replied. “I assume this condition is one an honest man can accept?”

“Yes, sir. Just this. It’s possible that certain unforeseen events may force me to confine you to your cabins for some hours, or even for some days. Since I prefer never to use violence, I expect from you in such a case your unquestioning obedience. Do you accept this condition?”

“We accept,” I replied. “Only, I’ll ask your permission, sir, to address a question to you, just one.”

“Go ahead, sir.”

“You said we’d be free aboard your vessel?”

“Completely.”

“Then I would ask what you mean by this freedom.”

“Why, the freedom to come, go, see, and even closely observe everything happening here—in short, the freedom we ourselves enjoy, my companions and I.”

It was obvious that we did not understand each other.

“Pardon me, sir,” I went on, “but that’s merely the freedom that every prisoner has, the freedom to pace his cell! That’s not enough for us.”

“Nevertheless, it will have to do!”

“What! We must give up seeing our homeland, friends, and relatives ever again?”

“Yes, sir. But giving up that intolerable earthly yoke that some men call freedom is perhaps less painful than you think!”

“By thunder!” Ned Land shouted. “I’ll never promise I won’t try getting out of here!”

“I didn’t ask for such a promise, Mr. Land,” the commander replied coldly.

“Sir,” I replied, “you’re taking unfair advantage of us! This is cruelty!”

“No, sir, it’s an act of mercy! You’re my prisoners of war! I’ve cared for you when I could plunge you back into the ocean depths! You attacked me! You’ve known the secret no living man must know, the secret of my entire existence! Do you think I’ll send you back to a world that must know nothing more of me? Never!”

“Then, sir,” I went on, “you give us, quite simply, a choice between life and death?”

“Quite simply.”

“My friends,” I said, “we have nothing to do. But no solemn promises bind us to the commander of this vessel.”

“None, sir,” the stranger replied.

Then, in a gentler voice, he went on:

“Now, allow me to finish what I have to tell you. I’ve heard of you, Professor Aronnax. Among my books you’ll find the work you’ve published on the great ocean depths. But you don’t know everything because you haven’t seen everything. Let me tell you, professor, you won’t regret the time you spend aboard my vessel. You’re going to voyage through a land of wonders. I’m going to make another underwater tour of the world—perhaps my last, who knows?—and I’ll review everything I’ve studied in the depths of these seas that I’ve crossed so often, and you can be my fellow student.”

I can’t deny it; the commander’s words had a tremendous effect on me. He had caught me on my weak side, and I momentarily forgot that this experience was worth the loss of my freedom. So I replied:

“Sir, even though you’ve cut yourself off from humanity, I can see that you haven’t disowned all human feeling. We’re castaways, you’ve saved us, we’ll never forget that. I have but one last question.”

“Ask it, professor.”

“By what name am I to call you?”

“Sir,” the commander replied, “to you, I’m simply Captain Nemo; to me, you and your companions are simply passengers on the Nautilus.”

Captain Nemo went out. A steward appeared. The captain gave him his orders in that strange language I couldn’t even identify. Then, turning to the Canadian and Conseil:

“A meal is waiting for you in your cabin,” he told them. “Kindly follow this man.”

“That’s an offer I can’t refuse!” the harpooner replied.

“And now, Professor Aronnax, our own breakfast is ready. Allow me to lead the way.”

“Yours to command, captain.”

I went down a kind of electrically lit passageway that resembled a gangway on a ship. After a stretch of some ten meters, a second door opened before me.

I then entered a dining room, decorated and furnished in austere good taste. Tall oaken sideboards stood at both ends of this room, and sparkling on their shelves were rows of earthenware, porcelain, and glass of incalculable value. In the center of this room stood a table, richly spread. Captain Nemo indicated the place I was to occupy.

“Be seated,” he told me, “and eat, please.”

Our breakfast consisted of several dishes whose contents were all supplied by the sea, and some foods whose nature was unknown to me. These various food items seemed to be rich in phosphorous.

Captain Nemo stared at me. I had asked him nothing, but he read my thoughts, and on his own he answered the questions I was itching to address him.

“Most of these dishes are new to you,” he told me. “But you can consume them without fear. They’re healthy and nourishing. I renounced terrestrial foods long ago. My crew are strong and full of energy, and they eat what I eat.”

“So,” I said, “all these foods are products of the sea?”

“Yes, professor, the sea supplies all my needs. Sometimes I cast my nets, sometimes I go hunting far out of man’s reach, and I corner the game that dwells in my underwater forests. My herds graze without fear on the ocean’s immense prairies.”

I stared at Captain Nemo in definite astonishment, and I answered him:

“Sir, I understand perfectly how your nets can furnish excellent fish for your table; I understand less how you can chase aquatic game in your underwater forests; but how a piece of red meat, no matter how small, can figure in your menu, that I don’t understand at all.”

“Nor I, sir,” Captain Nemo answered me. “I never touch the flesh of land animals.”

“Nevertheless, this … ,” I went on, pointing to a dish where some slices of loin were still left.

“What you believe to be red meat, professor, is nothing other than loin of sea turtle. Similarly, here are some dolphin livers you might mistake for stewed pork. My chef is a skillful food processor. Feel free to try all of these foods. Here are some preserves of sea cucumber, here’s cream from milk furnished by the udders of cetaceans, and sugar from the huge fucus plants in the North Sea; and finally, allow me to offer you some marmalade of sea anemone, equal to that from the tastiest fruits. The sea, Professor Aronnax, not only feeds me, it dresses me as well. That fabric covering you was woven from the masses of filaments that anchor certain seashells. The perfumes you’ll find on the washstand in your cabin were produced from the oozings of marine plants. Your mattress was made from the ocean’s softest eelgrass. Your pen will be whalebone, your ink a juice secreted by cuttlefish or squid. Everything comes to me from the sea, just as someday everything will return to it!”

“You love the sea, captain.”

“Yes, I love it! The sea is everything! It covers seven-tenths of the planet earth. Its breath is clean and healthy. It’s an immense wilderness where a man is never lonely. It’s simply movement and love; it’s living infinity. The sea is a vast pool of nature. Our globe began with the sea, so to speak, and who can say we won’t end with it! Here lies supreme tranquility. The sea doesn’t belong to tyrants. On its surface they can battle each other, devour each other. But thirty feet below sea level, their dominion ceases, their influence fades, their power vanishes! Live in the heart of the seas! Here alone lies independence! Here I’m free!”

Captain Nemo suddenly fell silent in the midst of this enthusiastic speech. Had he said too much? Then he turned to me:

“Now, professor,” he said, “if you’d like to inspect the Nautilus, I’m yours to command.”




Chapter 11


Captain Nemo stood up. I followed him. Contrived at the rear of the dining room, a double door opened, and I entered a room.

It was a library. Tall, black-rosewood bookcases held a large number of books. Light, movable reading stands, which could be pushed away or pulled near as desired, allowed books to be positioned on them for easy study. In the center stood a huge table covered with pamphlets, among which some newspapers. Electric light was falling from four globes set in the ceiling. I couldn’t believe my eyes.

“Captain Nemo,” I told my host, “this is a library that would do credit to more than one continental palace, and I truly marvel to think it can go with you into the deepest seas.”

“Where could one find greater silence or solitude, professor?” Captain Nemo replied. “Did your study at the museum afford you such a perfect retreat?”

“No, sir, and I might add that you own 6,000 or 7,000 volumes here.”

“12,000, Professor Aronnax. They’re my sole remaining ties with dry land. I left the shore the day my Nautilus submerged for the first time under the waters. That day I purchased my last volumes, my last pamphlets, my last newspapers. Professor, these books are at your disposal, and you may use them freely.”

I thanked Captain Nemo and approached the shelves of this library. Written in every language, books on science, ethics, and literature were there in abundance, but I didn’t see a single work on economics. One odd detail: all these books were shelved indiscriminately without regard to the language in which they were written, and this jumble proved that the Nautilus’s captain could read fluently many languages.

Among these books I noted masterpieces by the greats of ancient and modern times. Books on history, poetry, fiction, and science, mechanics, ballistics, hydrography, meteorology, geography, geology, natural history, astronomy!

“Sir,” I told the captain, “thank you for placing this library at my disposal. There are scientific treasures here, and I’ll take advantage of them.”

“This room isn’t only a library,” Captain Nemo said, “it’s also a smoking room.”

“A smoking room?” I exclaimed. “Then one may smoke on board?”

“Surely.”

“In that case, sir, I’m forced to believe that you’ve kept up relations with Havana.”

“None whatever,” the captain replied. “Try this cigar, Professor Aronnax, and even though it doesn’t come from Havana, it will satisfy you.”

I took the cigar that was offered me, whose shape recalled those from Cuba; but it seemed to be made of gold leaf. I lit it.

“It’s excellent,” I said, “but it’s not from the tobacco plant.”

“Right,” the captain replied, “this tobacco comes from neither Havana nor the Orient. It’s a kind of nicotine-rich seaweed that the ocean supplies me. Smoke these cigars whenever you like, without debating their origin.”

Then Captain Nemo opened a door, and I passed into an immense, splendidly lit lounge.

It was a huge quadrilateral with canted corners, ten meters long, six wide, five high. A luminous ceiling, decorated with delicate arabesques, distributed a soft, clear daylight over all the wonders gathered in this museum. For a museum it truly was!

Thirty pictures by the masters, tapestries of austere design. There I saw canvases of the highest value. Wonderful miniature statues in marble or bronze, modeled after antiquity’s finest originals, stood on their pedestals in the corners of this magnificent museum.

“Sir,” I replied, “might I venture to identify you as an artist?”

“A collector, sir, nothing more. Formerly I loved acquiring these beautiful works created by the hand of man, and I’ve been able to gather some objects of great value. They’re my last mementos of those shores that are now dead for me. In my eyes, your modern artists are already as old as the ancients. They’ve existed for 2,000 or 3,000 years, and I mix them up in my mind. The masters are ageless.”

Captain Nemo fell silent and seemed lost in reverie. I regarded him with intense excitement. Leaning his elbow on the corner of a valuable mosaic table, he no longer saw me, he had forgotten my very presence.

I didn’t disturb his meditations but continued to pass in review the curiosities that enriched this lounge.

After the works of art, natural rarities predominated. They consisted chiefly of plants, shells, and other exhibits from the ocean.

“You’re examining my shells, professor? For me they have an added charm, since I’ve collected every one of them with my own two hands, and not a sea on the globe has escaped my investigations.”

“I understand, captain. You’re a man who gathers his treasure in person. No museum in Europe owns such a collection of exhibits from the ocean. May I learn—”

“Professor Aronnax,” Captain Nemo answered me, “I’ve said you’d be free aboard my vessel. You may inspect the Nautilus in detail, and I’ll be delighted to act as your guide. But beforehand, come inspect the cabin set aside for you.”

I followed Captain Nemo led me back down the ship’s gangways. He took me to the bow, and there I found not just a cabin but an elegant stateroom with a bed, a washstand, and various other furnishings.

I could only thank my host.

“Your stateroom adjoins mine,” he told me, opening a door, “and mine leads into that lounge we’ve just left.”

I entered the captain’s stateroom. It had an austere, almost monastic appearance. An iron bedstead, a worktable, some washstand fixtures. Subdued lighting. No luxuries. Just the bare necessities.

Captain Nemo showed me to a bench.

“Kindly be seated,” he told me.

I sat, and he began speaking,




Chapter 12


“Sir,” Captain Nemo said, showing me the instruments hanging on the walls of his stateroom, “these are the devices needed to navigate the Nautilus. Here, as in the lounge, I always have them before my eyes, and they indicate my position and exact heading in the middle of the ocean. You’re familiar with some of them, such as the thermometer, which gives the temperature inside the Nautilus; the barometer, which measures the heaviness of the outside air and forecasts changes in the weather; the humidistat, which indicates the degree of dryness in the atmosphere; the storm glass, which foretells the arrival of tempests; the compass, which steers my course; the sextant, which takes the sun’s altitude and tells me my latitude; chronometers, which allow me to calculate my longitude; and finally, spyglasses for both day and night, enabling me to scrutinize every point of the horizon once the Nautilus has risen to the surface of the waves.”

“These are the normal navigational instruments,” I replied, “and I’m familiar with their uses. But no doubt these others are unique. That one—isn’t it a pressure gauge[25 - a pressure gauge – манометр]?”

“It is indeed a pressure gauge. It’s placed in contact with the water, and it gives me the depth at which my submersible is sitting.”

“And these?”

“They’re thermometric sounding lines[26 - thermometric sounding lines – термометрические зонды] that report water temperatures in the different strata.”

“And these other instruments, whose functions I can’t even guess?”

“Here, professor, I need to give you some background information,” Captain Nemo said. He fell silent for some moments, then he said:

“There’s a powerful, obedient, swift, and effortless force which reigns supreme aboard my vessel. It does everything. It lights me, it warms me, it’s the soul of my mechanical equipment. This force is electricity.”

“Electricity!” I exclaimed in some surprise.

“Yes, sir.”

“But, captain, you have a tremendous speed of movement! How do you replace this marvelous force, since you no longer stay in contact with the shore?”

“At the bottom of the sea there exist much zinc, iron, silver, and gold, and I use the sea itself for the source of my electricity.”

“The sea itself?”

“Yes, professor. You’re familiar with the composition of salt water. In 1,000 grams one finds 96.5% water and about 2.66% sodium chloride[27 - sodium chloride – хлористый натрий], and so on. It’s this sodium that I extract from salt water and with which I compose my electric cells.”

“Sodium?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Captain, I fully understand the excellence of sodium. The sea contains it. Fine. But it still has to be extracted. And how do you accomplish this?”

“I don’t extract it with batteries; I utilize the heat of coal from the earth. I owe everything to the ocean; it generates electricity, and electricity gives the Nautilus heat, light, motion, and, in a word, life itself.”

“But not the air you breathe?”

“Oh, I could produce the air needed on board, but it would be pointless, since I can rise to the surface of the sea whenever I like.”

“Captain,” I replied, “all mankind will surely find the true dynamic power of electricity one day!”

“I’m not so certain they’ll find it,” Captain Nemo replied icily, standing up. “And if you follow me, we’ll inspect the Nautilus’s stern.”

I followed Captain Nemo down gangways, and I arrived amidships. There I found an iron ladder, clamped to the wall, led to the shaft’s upper end. I asked the captain what this ladder was for.

“It goes to the skiff,” he replied.

“What! You have a skiff?” I replied in some astonishment.

“Surely. An excellent longboat, light and unsinkable, which is used for excursions and fishing trips. The skiff is attached to the topside of the Nautilus’s hull. This ladder leads to a manhole cut into the hull and corresponding to a comparable hole cut into the side of the skiff. I insert myself through this double opening into the longboat.”

“But how do you return to the ship?”

“I don’t, Professor Aronnax; the Nautilus returns to me.”

“At your command?”

“At my command. An electric wire connects me to the ship. Come into the lounge. It’s actually our work room, and there you’ll learn the full story about the Nautilus





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notes


Примечания





1


the Governor Higginson – «Говернор Хигинсон» (название судна)




2


Baker – Бейкер




3


in Pacific seas – в водах Тихого океана




4


the Christopher Columbus – «Христофор Колумб» (название судна)




5


nautical league – морское лье (1 лье = 5556 м)




6


the Helvetia – «Гельвеция» (название судна)




7


Aristotle and Pliny – Аристотель и Плиний




8


the Moravia – «Моравиа» (название судна)




9


the Scotia – «Шотландия» (название судна)




10


Pierre Aronnax – Пьер Аронакс




11


the Abraham Lincoln – «Авраам Линкольн» (название судна)




12


Commander Farragut – капитан Фарагут




13


Conseil – Консель




14


the same – он самый




15


the Book of Job – «Книга Иова»




16


Ned Land – Нед Ленд




17


a grace period – отсрочка




18


Right your helm! – Право руля!




19


Clap on full steam! – Дать полный ход!




20


conical shells – конические бомбы




21


I didn’t lose my head – я не растерялся




22


riveted plates – листовое железо




23


Mobilis in mobili – Подвижный в подвижном




24


Break out of here! – Бежать отсюда!




25


a pressure gauge – манометр




26


thermometric sounding lines – термометрические зонды




27


sodium chloride – хлористый натрий