by Jules Verne
CHAPTER XII. AT THE MERCY OF THE WINDS
As the affrighted cormorants had winged their flight towards the south,there sprang up a sanguine hope on board the schooner that land might bediscovered in that direction. Thither, accordingly, it was determined toproceed, and in a few hours after quitting the island of the tomb,the _Dobryna_ was traversing the shallow waters that now covered thepeninsula of Dakhul, which had separated the Bay of Tunis from the Gulfof Hammamet. For two days she continued an undeviating course, andafter a futile search for the coast of Tunis, reached the latitude of 34degrees.
Here, on the 11th of February, there suddenly arose the cry of "Land!"and in the extreme horizon, right ahead, where land had never beenbefore, it was true enough that a shore was distinctly to be seen. Whatcould it be? It could not be the coast of Tripoli; for not only wouldthat low-lying shore be quite invisible at such a distance, but it wascertain, moreover, that it lay two degrees at least still furthersouth. It was soon observed that this newly discovered land was ofvery irregular elevation, that it extended due east and west acrossthe horizon, thus dividing the gulf into two separate sections andcompletely concealing the island of Jerba, which must lie behind. Itsposition was duly traced on the _Dobryna_'s chart.
"How strange," exclaimed Hector Servadac, "that after sailing all thistime over sea where we expected to find land, we have at last come uponland where we thought to find sea!"
"Strange, indeed," replied Lieutenant Procope; "and what appears to mealmost as remarkable is that we have never once caught sight either ofone of the Maltese tartans or one of the Levantine xebecs that trafficso regularly on the Mediterranean."
"Eastwards or westwards," asked the count--"which shall be our course?All farther progress to the south is checked."
"Westwards, by all means," replied Servadac quickly. "I am longing toknow whether anything of Algeria is left beyond the Shelif; besides,as we pass Gourbi Island we might take Ben Zoof on board, and thenmake away for Gibraltar, where we should be sure to learn something, atleast, of European news."
With his usual air of stately courtesy, Count Timascheff begged thecaptain to consider the yacht at his own disposal, and desired him togive the lieutenant instructions accordingly.
Lieutenant Procope, however, hesitated, and after revolving mattersfor a few moments in his mind, pointed out that as the wind was blowingdirectly from the west, and seemed likely to increase, if they went tothe west in the teeth of the weather, the schooner would be reduced tothe use of her engine only, and would have much difficulty in making anyheadway; on the other hand, by taking an eastward course, not only wouldthey have the advantage of the wind, but, under steam and canvas, mighthope in a few days to be off the coast of Egypt, and from Alexandria orsome other port they would have the same opportunity of getting tidingsfrom Europe as they would at Gibraltar.
Intensely anxious as he was to revisit the province of Oran, andeager, too, to satisfy himself of the welfare of his faithful BenZoof, Servadac could not but own the reasonableness of the lieutenant'sobjections, and yielded to the proposal that the eastward course shouldbe adopted. The wind gave signs only too threatening of the breezerising to a gale; but, fortunately, the waves did not culminate inbreakers, but rather in a long swell which ran in the same direction asthe vessel.
During the last fortnight the high temperature had been graduallydiminishing, until it now reached an average of 20 degrees Cent. (or 68degrees Fahr.), and sometimes descended as low as 15 degrees. That thisdiminution was to be attributed to the change in the earth's orbit was aquestion that admitted of little doubt. After approaching so near to thesun as to cross the orbit of Venus, the earth must now have recededso far from the sun that its normal distance of ninety-one millions ofmiles was greatly increased, and the probability was great that it wasapproximating to the orbit of Mars, that planet which in its physicalconstitution most nearly resembles our own. Nor was this suppositionsuggested merely by the lowering of the temperature; it was stronglycorroborated by the reduction of the apparent diameter of the sun's discto the precise dimensions which it would assume to an observer actuallystationed on the surface of Mars. The necessary inference that seemed tofollow from these phenomena was that the earth had been projected into anew orbit, which had the form of a very elongated ellipse.
Very slight, however, in comparison was the regard which theseastronomical wonders attracted on board the _Dobryna_. All interestthere was too much absorbed in terrestrial matters, and in ascertainingwhat changes had taken place in the configuration of the earth itself,to permit much attention to be paid to its erratic movements throughspace.
The schooner kept bravely on her way, but well out to sea, at a distanceof two miles from land. There was good need of this precaution, for soprecipitous was the shore that a vessel driven upon it must inevitablyhave gone to pieces; it did not offer a single harbor of refuge, but,smooth and perpendicular as the walls of a fortress, it rose to a heightof two hundred, and occasionally of three hundred feet. The waves dashedviolently against its base. Upon the general substratum rested a massiveconglomerate, the crystallizations of which rose like a forest ofgigantic pyramids and obelisks.
But what struck the explorers more than anything was the appearance ofsingular newness that pervaded the whole of the region. It all seemedso recent in its formation that the atmosphere had had no opportunity ofproducing its wonted effect in softening the hardness of its lines, inrounding the sharpness of its angles, or in modifying the color ofits surface; its outline was clearly marked against the sky, and itssubstance, smooth and polished as though fresh from a founder's mold,glittered with the metallic brilliancy that is characteristic ofpyrites. It seemed impossible to come to any other conclusion butthat the land before them, continent or island, had been upheaved bysubterranean forces above the surface of the sea, and that it was mainlycomposed of the same metallic element as had characterized the dust sofrequently uplifted from the bottom.
The extreme nakedness of the entire tract was likewise veryextraordinary. Elsewhere, in various quarters of the globe, there maybe sterile rocks, but there are none so adamant as to be altogetherunfurrowed by the filaments engendered in the moist residuum of thecondensed vapor; elsewhere there may be barren steeps, but none so rigidas not to afford some hold to vegetation, however low and elementarymay be its type; but here all was bare, and blank, and desolate--not asymptom of vitality was visible.
Such being the condition of the adjacent land, it could hardly be amatter of surprise that all the sea-birds, the albatross, the gull, thesea-mew, sought continual refuge on the schooner; day and night theyperched fearlessly upon the yards, the report of a gun failing todislodge them, and when food of any sort was thrown upon the deck,they would dart down and fight with eager voracity for the prize. Theirextreme avidity was recognized as a proof that any land where they couldobtain a sustenance must be far remote.
Onwards thus for several days the _Dobryna_ followed the contour of theinhospitable coast, of which the features would occasionally change,sometimes for two or three miles assuming the form of a simple arris,sharply defined as though cut by a chisel, when suddenly the prismaticlamellae soaring in rugged confusion would again recur; but all alongthere was the same absence of beach or tract of sand to mark its base,neither were there any of those shoals of rock that are ordinarily foundin shallow water. At rare intervals there were some narrow fissures,but not a creek available for a ship to enter to replenish its supply ofwater; and the wide roadsteads were unprotected and exposed to well-nighevery point of the compass.
But after sailing two hundred and forty miles, the progress of the_Dobryna_ was suddenly arrested. Lieutenant Procope, who had sedulouslyinserted the outline of the newly revealed shore upon the maps,announced that it had ceased to run east and west, and had taken a turndue north, thus forming a barrier to their continuing their previousdirection. It was, of course, impossible to conjecture how far thisbarrier extended; it coincided pretty nearly with the fourteenthmeridi
an of east longitude; and if it reached, as probably it did,beyond Sicily to Italy, it was certain that the vast basin of theMediterranean, which had washed the shores alike of Europe, Asia, andAfrica, must have been reduced to about half its original area.
It was resolved to proceed upon the same plan as heretofore, followingthe boundary of the land at a safe distance. Accordingly, the head ofthe _Dobryna_ was pointed north, making straight, as it was presumed,for the south of Europe. A hundred miles, or somewhat over, in thatdirection, and it was to be anticipated she would come in sight ofMalta, if only that ancient island, the heritage in succession ofPhoenicians, Carthaginians, Sicilians, Romans, Vandals, Greeks,Arabians, and the knights of Rhodes, should still be undestroyed.
But Malta, too, was gone; and when, upon the 14th, the sounding-line wasdropped upon its site, it was only with the same result so oftentimesobtained before.
"The devastation is not limited to Africa," observed the count.
"Assuredly not," assented the lieutenant; adding, "and I confess I amalmost in despair whether we shall ever ascertain its limits. To whatquarter of Europe, if Europe still exists, do you propose that I shouldnow direct your course?"
"To Sicily, Italy, France!" ejaculated Servadac, eagerly,--"anywherewhere we can learn the truth of what has befallen us."
"How if we are the sole survivors?" said the count, gravely.
Hector Servadac was silent; his own secret presentiment so thoroughlycoincided with the doubts expressed by the count, that he refrained fromsaying another word.
The coast, without deviation, still tended towards the north. Noalternative, therefore, remained than to take a westerly course and toattempt to reach the northern shores of the Mediterranean. On the 16ththe _Dobryna_ essayed to start upon her altered way, but it seemed as ifthe elements had conspired to obstruct her progress. A furious tempestarose; the wind beat dead in the direction of the coast, and the dangerincurred by a vessel of a tonnage so light was necessarily very great.
Lieutenant Procope was extremely uneasy. He took in all sail, struckhis topmasts, and resolved to rely entirely on his engine. But the perilseemed only to increase. Enormous waves caught the schooner and carriedher up to their crests, whence again she was plunged deep into theabysses that they left. The screw failed to keep its hold upon thewater, but continually revolved with useless speed in the vacant air;and thus, although the steam was forced on to the extremest limitconsistent with safety, the vessel held her way with the utmostdifficulty, and recoiled before the hurricane.
Still, not a single resort for refuge did the inaccessible shorepresent. Again and again the lieutenant asked himself what would becomeof him and his comrades, even if they should survive the peril ofshipwreck, and gain a footing upon the cliff. What resources couldthey expect to find upon that scene of desolation? What hope could theyentertain that any portion of the old continent still existed beyondthat dreary barrier?
It was a trying time, but throughout it all the crew behaved withthe greatest courage and composure; confident in the skill of theircommander, and in the stability of their ship, they performed theirduties with steadiness and unquestioning obedience.
But neither skill, nor courage, nor obedience could avail; all was invain. Despite the strain put upon her engine, the schooner, bare ofcanvas (for not even the smallest stay-sail could have withstood theviolence of the storm), was drifting with terrific speed towards themenacing precipices, which were only a. few short miles to leeward.Fully alive to the hopelessness of their situation, the crew were all ondeck.
"All over with us, sir!" said Procope to the count. "I have doneeverything that man could do; but our case is desperate. Nothing shortof a miracle can save us now. Within an hour we must go to pieces uponyonder rocks."
"Let us, then, commend ourselves to the providence of Him to Whomnothing is impossible," replied the count, in a calm, clear voicethat could be distinctly heard by all; and as he spoke, he reverentlyuncovered, an example in which he was followed by all the rest.
The destruction of the vessel seeming thus inevitable, LieutenantProcope took the best measures he could to insure a few days' supplyof food for any who might escape ashore. He ordered several cases ofprovisions and kegs of water to be brought on deck, and saw that theywere securely lashed to some empty barrels, to make them float after theship had gone down.
Less and less grew the distance from the shore, but no creek, no inlet,could be discerned in the towering wall of cliff, which seemed about totopple over and involve them in annihilation. Except a change of windor, as Procope observed, a supernatural rifting of the rock, nothingcould bring deliverance now. But the wind did not veer, and in a fewminutes more the schooner was hardly three cables' distance from thefatal land. All were aware that their last moment had arrived. Servadacand the count grasped each other's hands for a long farewell; and,tossed by the tremendous waves, the schooner was on the very point ofbeing hurled upon the cliff, when a ringing shout was heard. "Quick,boys, quick! Hoist the jib, and right the tiller!"
Sudden and startling as the unexpected orders were, they were executedas if by magic.
The lieutenant, who had shouted from the bow, rushed astern and tookthe helm, and before anyone had time to speculate upon the object of hismaneuvers, he shouted again, "Look out! sharp! watch the sheets!"
An involuntary cry broke forth from all on board. But it was no cryof terror. Right ahead was a narrow opening in the solid rock; it washardly forty feet wide. Whether it was a passage or no, it matteredlittle; it was at least a refuge; and, driven by wind and wave, the_Dobryna_, under the dexterous guidance of the lieutenant, dashed inbetween its perpendicular walls.
Had she not immured herself in a perpetual prison?
