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CHAPTER IX

A VANISHED CONTINENT

The next morning, the 19th of February, I saw the Canadian enter my room.
I expected this visit. He looked very disappointed.

"Well, sir?" said he.

"Well, Ned, fortune was against us yesterday."

"Yes; that Captain must needs stop exactly at the hour we intended
leaving his vessel."

"Yes, Ned, he had business at his bankers."

"His bankers!"

"Or rather his banking-house; by that I mean the ocean,
where his riches are safer than in the chests of the State."

I then related to the Canadian the incidents of the preceding night,
hoping to bring him back to the idea of not abandoning the Captain;
but my recital had no other result than an energetically expressed regret
from Ned that he had not been able to take a walk on the battlefield
of Vigo on his own account.

"However," said he, "all is not ended. It is only a blow
of the harpoon lost. Another time we must succeed;
and to-night, if necessary----"

"In what direction is the Nautilus going?" I asked.

"I do not know," replied Ned.

"Well, at noon we shall see the point."

The Canadian returned to Conseil. As soon as I was dressed,
I went into the saloon. The compass was not reassuring.
The course of the Nautilus was S.S.W. We were turning our
backs on Europe.

I waited with some impatience till the ship's place was pricked
on the chart. At about half-past eleven the reservoirs
were emptied, and our vessel rose to the surface of the ocean.
I rushed towards the platform. Ned Land had preceded me.
No more land in sight. Nothing but an immense sea.
Some sails on the horizon, doubtless those going to San Roque
in search of favourable winds for doubling the Cape of Good Hope.
The weather was cloudy. A gale of wind was preparing.
Ned raved, and tried to pierce the cloudy horizon.
He still hoped that behind all that fog stretched the land he so
longed for.

At noon the sun showed itself for an instant. The second profited by this
brightness to take its height. Then, the sea becoming more billowy,
we descended, and the panel closed.

An hour after, upon consulting the chart, I saw the position
of the Nautilus was marked at [email protected] 17' long., and [email protected] 22'
lat., at 150 leagues from the nearest coast. There was no means
of flight, and I leave you to imagine the rage of the Canadian
when I informed him of our situation.

For myself, I was not particularly sorry. I felt lightened
of the load which had oppressed me, and was able to return
with some degree of calmness to my accustomed work.

That night, about eleven o'clock, I received a most unexpected
visit from Captain Nemo. He asked me very graciously
if I felt fatigued from my watch of the preceding night.
I answered in the negative.

"Then, M. Aronnax, I propose a curious excursion."

"Propose, Captain?"

"You have hitherto only visited the submarine depths by daylight,
under the brightness of the sun. Would it suit you to see them
in the darkness of the night?"

"Most willingly."

"I warn you, the way will be tiring. We shall have far to walk,
and must climb a mountain. The roads are not well kept."

"What you say, Captain, only heightens my curiosity;
I am ready to follow you."

"Come then, sir, we will put on our diving-dresses."

Arrived at the robing-room, I saw that neither of my companions
nor any of the ship's crew were to follow us on this excursion.
Captain Nemo had not even proposed my taking with me either
Ned or Conseil.

In a few moments we had put on our diving-dresses; they placed
on our backs the reservoirs, abundantly filled with air,
but no electric lamps were prepared. I called the Captain's
attention to the fact.

"They will be useless," he replied.

I thought I had not heard aright, but I could not repeat my observation,
for the Captain's head had already disappeared in its metal case.
I finished harnessing myself. I felt them put an iron-pointed stick
into my hand, and some minutes later, after going through the usual form,
we set foot on the bottom of the Atlantic at a depth of 150 fathoms.
Midnight was near. The waters were profoundly dark, but Captain Nemo
pointed out in the distance a reddish spot, a sort of large light shining
brilliantly about two miles from the Nautilus. What this fire might be,
what could feed it, why and how it lit up the liquid mass, I could not say.
In any case, it did light our way, vaguely, it is true, but I soon accustomed
myself to the peculiar darkness, and I understood, under such circumstances,
the uselessness of the Ruhmkorff apparatus.

As we advanced, I heard a kind of pattering above my head.
The noise redoubling, sometimes producing a continual shower,
I soon understood the cause. It was rain falling violently,
and crisping the surface of the waves. Instinctively the
thought flashed across my mind that I should be wet through!
By the water! in the midst of the water! I could not help
laughing at the odd idea. But, indeed, in the thick diving-dress,
the liquid element is no longer felt, and one only seems to be
in an atmosphere somewhat denser than the terrestrial atmosphere.
Nothing more.

After half an hour's walk the soil became stony.
Medusae, microscopic crustacea, and pennatules lit it slightly
with their phosphorescent gleam. I caught a glimpse of pieces
of stone covered with millions of zoophytes and masses of sea weed.
My feet often slipped upon this sticky carpet of sea weed,
and without my iron-tipped stick I should have fallen more than once.
In turning round, I could still see the whitish lantern of the
Nautilus beginning to pale in the distance.

But the rosy light which guided us increased and lit up the horizon.
The presence of this fire under water puzzled me in the highest degree.
Was I going towards a natural phenomenon as yet unknown to the savants
of the earth? Or even (for this thought crossed my brain) had the hand
of man aught to do with this conflagration? Had he fanned this flame?
Was I to meet in these depths companions and friends of Captain Nemo whom
he was going to visit, and who, like him, led this strange existence?
Should I find down there a whole colony of exiles who, weary of the miseries
of this earth, had sought and found independence in the deep ocean?
All these foolish and unreasonable ideas pursued me. And in this condition
of mind, over-excited by the succession of wonders continually passing before
my eyes, I should not have been surprised to meet at the bottom of the sea one
of those submarine towns of which Captain Nemo dreamed.

Our road grew lighter and lighter. The white glimmer came in rays
from the summit of a mountain about 800 feet high. But what I saw
was simply a reflection, developed by the clearness of the waters.
The source of this inexplicable light was a fire on the opposite side
of the mountain.

In the midst of this stony maze furrowing the bottom of the Atlantic,
Captain Nemo advanced without hesitation. He knew this dreary road.
Doubtless he had often travelled over it, and could not lose himself.
I followed him with unshaken confidence. He seemed to me like a genie of
the sea; and, as he walked before me, I could not help admiring his stature,
which was outlined in black on the luminous horizon.

It was one in the morning when we arrived at the first slopes of the mountain;
but to gain access to them we must venture through the difficult paths
of a vast copse.

Yes; a copse of dead trees, without leaves, without sap,
trees petrified by the action of the water and here and there
overtopped by gigantic pines. It was like a coal-pit still standing,
holding by the roots to the broken soil, and whose branches, like fine
black paper cuttings, showed distinctly on the watery ceiling.
Picture to yourself a forest in the Hartz hanging on to the sides
of the mountain, but a forest swallowed up. The paths were
encumbered with seaweed and fucus, between which grovelled
a whole world of crustacea. I went along, climbing the rocks,
striding over extended trunks, breaking the sea bind-weed which hung
from one tree to the other; and frightening the fishes, which flew
from branch to branch. Pressing onward, I felt no fatigue.
I followed my guide, who was never tired. What a spectacle!
How can I express it? how paint the aspect of those woods and
rocks in this medium--their under parts dark and wild, the upper
coloured with red tints, by that light which the reflecting powers
of the waters doubled? We climbed rocks which fell directly
after with gigantic bounds and the low growling of an avalanche.
To right and left ran long, dark galleries, where sight was lost.
Here opened vast glades which the hand of man seemed to have worked;
and I sometimes asked myself if some inhabitant of these submarine
regions would not suddenly appear to me.

But Captain Nemo was still mounting. I could not stay behind.
I followed boldly. My stick gave me good help. A false step would
have been dangerous on the narrow passes sloping down to the sides
of the gulfs; but I walked with firm step, without feeling
any giddiness. Now I jumped a crevice, the depth of which would
have made me hesitate had it been among the glaciers on the land;
now I ventured on the unsteady trunk of a tree thrown across
from one abyss to the other, without looking under my feet,
having only eyes to admire the wild sites of this region.

There, monumental rocks, leaning on their regularly-cut bases, seemed to defy
all laws of equilibrium. From between their stony knees trees sprang,
like a jet under heavy pressure, and upheld others which upheld them.
Natural towers, large scarps, cut perpendicularly, like a "curtain," inclined
at an angle which the laws of gravitation could never have tolerated
in terrestrial regions.

Two hours after quitting the Nautilus we had crossed the line of trees,
and a hundred feet above our heads rose the top of the mountain,
which cast a shadow on the brilliant irradiation of the opposite slope.
Some petrified shrubs ran fantastically here and there. Fishes got up
under our feet like birds in the long grass. The massive rocks were
rent with impenetrable fractures, deep grottos, and unfathomable holes,
at the bottom of which formidable creatures might be heard moving.
My blood curdled when I saw enormous antennae blocking my road,
or some frightful claw closing with a noise in the shadow of some cavity.
Millions of luminous spots shone brightly in the midst of the darkness.
They were the eyes of giant crustacea crouched in their holes;
giant lobsters setting themselves up like halberdiers, and moving
their claws with the clicking sound of pincers; titanic crabs,
pointed like a gun on its carriage; and frightful-looking poulps,
interweaving their tentacles like a living nest of serpents.

We had now arrived on the first platform, where other surprises awaited me.
Before us lay some picturesque ruins, which betrayed the hand of man
and not that of the Creator. There were vast heaps of stone,
amongst which might be traced the vague and shadowy forms of castles
and temples, clothed with a world of blossoming zoophytes, and over which,
instead of ivy, sea-weed and fucus threw a thick vegetable mantle. But what
was this portion of the globe which had been swallowed by cataclysms?
Who had placed those rocks and stones like cromlechs of prehistoric times?
Where was I? Whither had Captain Nemo's fancy hurried me?

I would fain have asked him; not being able to, I stopped him--
I seized his arm. But, shaking his head, and pointing to the highest
point of the mountain, he seemed to say:

"Come, come along; come higher!"

I followed, and in a few minutes I had climbed to the top,
which for a circle of ten yards commanded the whole mass of rock.

I looked down the side we had just climbed. The mountain did
not rise more than seven or eight hundred feet above the level
of the plain; but on the opposite side it commanded from
twice that height the depths of this part of the Atlantic.
My eyes ranged far over a large space lit by a violent fulguration.
In fact, the mountain was a volcano.

At fifty feet above the peak, in the midst of a rain of stones
and scoriae, a large crater was vomiting forth torrents of lava
which fell in a cascade of fire into the bosom of the liquid mass.
Thus situated, this volcano lit the lower plain like an
immense torch, even to the extreme limits of the horizon.
I said that the submarine crater threw up lava, but no flames.
Flames require the oxygen of the air to feed upon and cannot be
developed under water; but streams of lava, having in themselves
the principles of their incandescence, can attain a white heat,
fight vigorously against the liquid element, and turn it to
vapour by contact.

Rapid currents bearing all these gases in diffusion and torrents
of lava slid to the bottom of the mountain like an eruption
of Vesuvius on another Terra del Greco.

There indeed under my eyes, ruined, destroyed, lay a town--
its roofs open to the sky, its temples fallen, its arches dislocated,
its columns lying on the ground, from which one would still
recognise the massive character of Tuscan architecture.
Further on, some remains of a gigantic aqueduct; here the high
base of an Acropolis, with the floating outline of a Parthenon;
there traces of a quay, as if an ancient port had formerly
abutted on the borders of the ocean, and disappeared with
its merchant vessels and its war-galleys. Farther on again,
long lines of sunken walls and broad, deserted streets--
a perfect Pompeii escaped beneath the waters. Such was the sight
that Captain Nemo brought before my eyes!

Where was I? Where was I? I must know at any cost.
I tried to speak, but Captain Nemo stopped me by a gesture,
and, picking up a piece of chalk-stone, advanced to a rock
of black basalt, and traced the one word:


ATLANTIS


What a light shot through my mind! Atlantis! the Atlantis
of Plato, that continent denied by Origen and Humbolt,
who placed its disappearance amongst the legendary tales.
I had it there now before my eyes, bearing upon it
the unexceptionable testimony of its catastrophe.
The region thus engulfed was beyond Europe, Asia, and Lybia,
beyond the columns of Hercules, where those powerful people,
the Atlantides, lived, against whom the first wars of ancient
Greeks were waged.

Thus, led by the strangest destiny, I was treading under foot
the mountains of this continent, touching with my hand those ruins
a thousand generations old and contemporary with the geological epochs.
I was walking on the very spot where the contemporaries of the first
man had walked.

Whilst I was trying to fix in my mind every detail of this
grand landscape, Captain Nemo remained motionless,
as if petrified in mute ecstasy, leaning on a mossy stone.
Was he dreaming of those generations long since disappeared?
Was he asking them the secret of human destiny? Was it here this
strange man came to steep himself in historical recollections,
and live again this ancient life--he who wanted no modern one?
What would I not have given to know his thoughts, to share them,
to understand them! We remained for an hour at this place,
contemplating the vast plains under the brightness of the lava,
which was some times wonderfully intense. Rapid tremblings ran
along the mountain caused by internal bubblings, deep noise,
distinctly transmitted through the liquid medium were echoed
with majestic grandeur. At this moment the moon appeared through
the mass of waters and threw her pale rays on the buried continent.
It was but a gleam, but what an indescribable effect!
The Captain rose, cast one last look on the immense plain,
and then bade me follow him.

We descended the mountain rapidly, and, the mineral forest
once passed, I saw the lantern of the Nautilus shining like a star.
The Captain walked straight to it, and we got on board as the first
rays of light whitened the surface of the ocean.





20,000 Leagues Under the Sea

Jules Verne
Category:
Science fiction
Sea stories
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