by Jules Verne
Chapter XIII
OVER THE CASPIAN
The engineer had no intention of taking his ship over the wondrouslands of Hindustan. To cross the Himalayas was to show how admirablewas the machine he commanded; to convince those who would not beconvinced was all he wished to do.
But if in their hearts Uncle Prudent and his colleague could not helpadmiring so perfect an engine of aerial locomotion, they allowed noneof their admiration to be visible. All they thought of was how toescape. They did not even admire the superb spectacle that laybeneath them as the "Albatross" flew along the river banks of thePunjab.
At the base of the Himalayas there runs a marshy belt of country, thehome of malarious vapors, the Terai, in which fever is endemic. Butthis offered no obstacle to the "Albatross," or, in any way, affectedthe health of her crew. She kept on without undue haste towards theangle where India joins on to China and Turkestan, and on the 29th ofJune, in the early hours of the morning, there opened to view theincomparable valley of Cashmere.
Yes! Incomparable is this gorge between the major and the minorHimalayas--furrowed by the buttresses in which the mighty range diesout in the basin of the Hydaspes, and watered by the capriciouswindings of the river which saw the struggle between the armies ofPorus and Alexander, when India and Greece contended for CentralAsia. The Hydaspes is still there, although the two towns founded bythe Macedonian in remembrance of his victory have long sincedisappeared.
During the morning the aeronef was over Serinuggur, which is betterknown under the name of Cashmere. Uncle Prudent and his companionbeheld the superb city clustered along both banks of the river; itswooden bridges stretching across like threads, its villas and theirbalconies standing out in bold outline, its hills shaded by tallpoplars, its roofs grassed over and looking like molehills; itsnumerous canals, with boats like nut-shells, and boatmen like ants;its palaces, temples, kiosks, mosques, and bungalows on theoutskirts; and its old citadel of Hari-Pawata on the slope of thehill like the most important of the forts of Paris on the slope ofMont Valerien.
"That would be Venice," said Phil Evans, "if we were in Europe."
"And if we were in Europe," answered Uncle Prudent, "we should knowhow to find the way to America."
The "Albatross" did not linger over the lake through which the riverflows, but continued her flight down the valley of the Hydaspes.
For half an hour only did she descend to within thirty feet of theriver and remained stationary. Then, by means of an india-rubberpipe, Tom Turner and his men replenished their water supply, whichwas drawn up by a pump worked by the accumulators. Uncle Prudent andPhil Evans stood watching the operation. The same idea occurred toeach of them. They were only a few feet from the surface of thestream. They were both good swimmers. A plunge would give them theirliberty; and once they had reached the river, how could Robur getthem back again? For his propellers to work, he must keep at leastsix feet above the ground.
In a moment all the chances pro and con were run over in their heads.In a moment they were considered, and the prisoners rushed to throwthemselves overboard, when several pairs of hands seized them by theshoulders.
They had been watched; and flight was utterly impossible.
This time they did not yield without resisting. They tried to throwoff those who held them. But these men of the "Albatross" were nochildren.
"Gentlemen," said the engineer, "when people, have the pleasure oftraveling with Robur the Conqueror, as you have so well named him, onboard his admirable "Albatross," they do not leave him in that way. Imay add you never leave him."
Phil Evans drew away his colleague, who was about to commit some actof violence. They retired to their cabin, resolved to escape, even ifit cost them their lives.
Immediately the "Albatross" resumed her course to the west. Duringthe day at moderate speed she passed over the territory ofCabulistan, catching a momentary glimpse of its capital, and crossedthe frontier of the kingdom of Herat, nearly seven hundred miles fromCashmere.
In these much-disputed countries, the open road for the Russians tothe English possessions in India, there were seen many columns andconvoys, and, in a word, everything that constitutes in men andmaterial an army on the march. There were heard also the roar of thecannon and the crackling of musketry. But the engineer never meddledwith the affairs of others where his honor or humanity was notconcerned. He passed above them. If Herat as we are told, is the keyof Central Asia, it mattered little to him if it was kept in anEnglish or Muscovite pocket. Terrestrial interests were nothing tohim who had made the air his domain.
Besides, the country soon disappeared in one of those sandstormswhich are so frequent in these regions. The wind called the "tebbad"bears along the seeds of fever in the impalpable dust it raises inits passage. And many are the caravans that perish in its eddies.
To escape this dust, which might have interfered with the working ofthe screws, the "Albatross" shot up some six thousand feet into apurer atmosphere.
And thus vanished the Persian frontier and the extensive plains. Thespeed was not excessive, although there were no rocks ahead, for themountains marked on the map are of very moderate altitude. But as theship approached the capital, she had to steer clear of Demavend,whose snowy peak rises some twenty-two thousand feet, and the chainof Elbruz, at whose foot is built Teheran.
As soon as the day broke on the 2nd of July the peak of Demavendappeared above the sandstorm, and the "Albatross" was steered so asto pass over the town, which the wind had wrapped in a mantle of dust.
However, about six o'clock her crew could see the large ditches thatsurround it, and the Shah's palace, with its walls covered withporcelain tiles, and its ornamental lakes, which seemed like hugeturquoises of beautiful blue.
It was but a hasty glimpse. The "Albatross" now headed for the north,and a few hours afterwards she was over a little hill at the northernangle of the Persian frontier, on the shores of a vast extent ofwater which stretched away out of sight to the north and east.
The town was Ashurada, the most southerly of the Russian stations.The vast extent of water was a sea. It was the Caspian.
The eddies of sand had been passed. There was a view of a group ofEuropean houses rising along a promontory, with a church tower in themidst of them.
The "Albatross" swooped down towards the surface of the sea. Towardsevening she was running along the coast--which formerly belonged toTurkestan, but now belongs to Russia--and in the morning of the 3rdof July she was about three hundred feet above the Caspian.
There was no land in sight, either on the Asiatic or European side.On the surface of the sea a few white sails were bellying in thebreeze. These were native vessels recognizable by their peculiarrig--kesebeys, with two masts; kayuks, the old pirate-boats, with onemast; teimils, and smaller craft for trading and fishing. Here andthere a few puffs of smoke rose up to the "Albatross" from thefunnels of the Ashurada steamers, which the Russians keep as thepolice of these Turcoman waters.
That morning Tom Turner was talking to the cook, Tapage, and to aquestion of his replied, "Yes; we shall be about forty-eight hoursover the Caspian."
"Good!" said the cook; "Then we can have some fishing."
"Just so."
They were to remain for forty-eight hours over the Caspian, which issome six hundred and twenty-five miles long and two hundred wide,because the speed of the "Albatross" had been much reduced, and whilethe fishing was going on she would be stopped altogether.
The reply was heard by Phil Evans, who was then in the bow, whereFrycollin was overwhelming him with piteous pleadings to be put "onthe ground."
Without replying to this preposterous request, Evans returned aft toUncle Prudent; and there, taking care not to be overheard, hereported the conversation that had taken place.
"Phil Evans," said Uncle Prudent, "I think there can be no mistake asto this scoundrel's intention with regard to us."
"None," said Phil Evans. "He will only give us our liberty when itsuits him, and perhaps
not at all."
"In that case we must do all we can to get away from the 'Albatross'."
"A splendid craft, she is, I must admit."
"Perhaps so," said Uncle Prudent; "but she belongs to a scoundrel whodetains us on board in defiance of all right. For us and ours she isa constant danger. If we do not destroy her--"
"Let us begin by saving ourselves" answered Phil Evans; "we can seeabout the destruction afterwards."
"Just so," said Uncle Prudent. "And we must avail ourselves of everychance that comes, along. Evidently the "Albatross" is going to crossthe Caspian into Europe, either by the north into Russia or by thewest into the southern countries. Well, no matter where we stop,before we get to the Atlantic, we shall be safe. And we ought to beready at any moment."
"But," asked Evans, "how are we to get out?"
"Listen to me," said Uncle Prudent. "It may happen during the nightthat the "Albatross" may drop to within a few hundred feet of theground. Now there are on board several ropes of that length, and,with a little pluck we might slip down them--"
"Yes," said Evans. "If the case is desperate I don't mind--"
"Nor I. During the night there's no one about except the man at thewheel. And if we can drop one of the ropes forward without being seenor heard--"
"Good! I am glad to see you are so cool; that means business. Butjust now we are over the Caspian. There are several ships in sight.The "Albatross" is going down to fish. Cannot we do something now?"
"Sh! They are watching us much more than you think," said UnclePrudent. "You saw that when we tried to jump into the Hydaspes."
"And who knows that they don't watch us at night?" asked Evans.
"Well, we must end this; we must finish with this "Albatross" and hermaster."
It will be seen how in the excitement of their anger the colleagues--UnclePrudent in particular--were prepared to attempt the mosthazardous things. The sense of their powerlessness, the ironicaldisdain with which Robur treated them, the brutal remarks he indulgedin--all contributed towards intensifying the aggravation which dailygrew more manifest.
This very day something occurred which gave rise to another mostregrettable altercation between Robur and his guests. This wasprovoked by Frycollin, who, finding himself above the boundless sea,was seized with another fit of terror. Like a child, like the Negrohe was, he gave himself over to groaning and protesting and crying,and writhing in a thousand contortions and grimaces.
"I want to get out! I want to get out! I am not a bird! Boohoo! Idon't want to fly, I want to get out!"
Uncle Prudent, as may be imagined, did not attempt to quiet him. Infact, he encouraged him, and particularly as the incessant howlingseemed to have a strangely irritating effect on Robur.
When Tom Turner and his companions were getting ready for fishing,the engineer ordered them to shut up Frycollin in his cabin. But theNegro never ceased his jumping about, and began to kick at the walland yell with redoubled power.
It was noon. The "Albatross" was only about fifteen or twenty feetabove the water. A few ships, terrified at the apparition, soughtsafety in flight.
As may be guessed, a sharp look-out was kept on the prisoners, whosetemptation to escape could not but be intensified. Even supposingthey jumped overboard they would have been picked up by theindia-rubber boat. As there was nothing to do during the fishing, inwhich Phil Evans intended to take part, Uncle Prudent, ragingfuriously as usual, retired to his cabin.
The Caspian Sea is a volcanic depression. Into it flow the waters ofthe Volga, the Ural, the Kour, the Kouma, the Jemba, and others.Without the evaporation which relieves it of its overflow, thisbasin, with an area of 17,000 square miles, and a depth of from sixtyto four hundred feet, would flood the low marshy ground to its northand east. Although it is not in communication with the Black Sea orthe Sea of Aral, being at a much lower level than they are, itcontains an immense number of fish--such fish, be it understood, ascan live in its bitter waters, the bitterness being due to the naphthawhich pours in from the springs on the south.
The crew of the "Albatross" made no secret of their delight at thechange in their food the fishing would bring them.
"Look out!" shouted Turner, as he harpooned a good-size fish, notunlike a shark.
It was a splendid sturgeon seven feet long, called by the Russiansbeluga, the eggs of which mixed up with salt, vinegar, and white wineform caviar. Sturgeons from the river are, it may be, rather betterthan those from the sea; but these were welcomed warmly enough onboard the "Albatross."
But the best catches were made with the drag-nets, which brought upat each haul carp, bream, salmon, saltwater pike, and a number ofmedium-sized sterlets, which wealthy gourmets have sent alive toAstrakhan, Moscow, and Petersburg, and which now passed direct fromtheir natural element into the cook's kettle without any charge fortransport.
An hour's work sufficed to fill up the larders of the aeronef, andshe resumed her course to the north.
During the fishing Frycollin had continued shouting and kicking athis cabin wall, and making a tremendous noise.
"That wretched nigger will not be quiet, then?" said Robur, almostout of patience.
"It seems to me, sir, he has a right to complain," said Phil Evans.
"Yes, and I have a right to look after my ears," replied Robur.
"Engineer Robur!" said Uncle Prudent, who had just appeared on deck.
"President of the Weldon Institute!"
They had stepped up to one another, and were looking into the whitesof each other's eyes. Then Robur shrugged his shoulders. "Put him atthe end of a line," he said.
Turner saw his meaning at once. Frycollin was dragged out of hiscabin. Loud were his cries when the mate and one of the men seizedhim and tied him into a tub, which they hitched on to a rope--one ofthose very ropes, in fact, that Uncle Prudent had intended to use aswe know.
The Negro at first thought he was going to be hanged. Not he was onlygoing to be towed!
The rope was paid out for a hundred feet and Frycollin found himselfhanging in space.
He could then shout at his ease. But fright contracted his larynx,and he was mute.
Uncle Prudent and Phil Evans endeavored to prevent this performance.They were thrust aside.
"It is scandalous! It is cowardly!" said Uncle Prudent, quite besidehimself with rage.
"Indeed!" said Robur.
"It is an abuse of power against which I protest."
"Protest away!"
"I will be avenged, Mr. Robur."
"Avenge when you like, Mr. Prudent."
"I will have my revenge on you and yours."
The crew began to close up with anything but peaceful intentions.Robur motioned them away.
"Yes, on you and yours!" said Uncle Prudent, whom his colleague invain tried to keep quiet.
"Whenever you please!" said the engineer.
"And in every possible way!"
"That is enough now," said Robur, in a threatening tone. "There areother ropes on board. And if you don't be quiet I'll treat you as Ihave done your servant!"
Uncle Prudent was silent, not because he was afraid, but because hiswrath had nearly choked him; and Phil Evans led him off to his cabin.
During the last hour the air had been strangely troubled. Thesymptoms could not be mistaken. A storm was threatening. The electricsaturation of the atmosphere had become so great that about half-pasttwo o'clock Robur witnessed a phenomenon that was new to him.
In the north, whence the storm was traveling, were spirals ofhalf-luminous vapor due to the difference in the electric charges ofthe various beds of cloud. The reflections of these bands camerunning along the waves in myriads of lights, growing in intensity asthe sky darkened.
The "Albatross" and the storm were sure to meet, for they wereexactly in front of each other.
And Frycollin? Well! Frycollin was being towed--and towed is exactlythe word, for the rope made such an angle, with the aeronef, nowgoing at over sixty knots an hour, that the tub
was a long way behindher.
The crew were busy in preparing for the storm, for the "Albatross"would either have to rise above it or drive through its lowestlayers. She was about three thousand feet above the sea when a clapof thunder was heard. Suddenly the squall struck her. In a fewseconds the fiery clouds swept on around her.
Phil Evans went to intercede for Frycollin, and asked for him to betaken on board again. But Robur had already given orders to thateffect, and the rope was being hauled in, when suddenly there tookplace an inexplicable slackening in the speed of the screws.
The engineer rushed to the central deck-house. "Power! More power!"he shouted. "We must rise quickly and get over the storm!"
"Impossible, sir!"
"What is the matter?"
"The currents are troubled! They are intermittent!" And, in fact, the"Albatross" was falling fast.
As with the telegraph wires on land during a storm, so was it withthe accumulators of the aeronef. But what is only an inconvenience inthe case of messages was here a terrible danger.
"Let her down, then," said Robur, "and get out of the electric zone!Keep cool, my lads!"
He stepped on to his quarter-deck and his crew went to their stations.
Although the "Albatross" had sunk several hundred feet she was stillin the thick of the cloud, and the flashes played across her as ifthey were fireworks. It seemed as though she was struck. The screwsran more and more slowly, and what began as a gentle descentthreatened to become a collapse.
In less than a minute it was evident they would get down to thesurface of the sea. Once they were immersed no power could drag themfrom the abyss.
Suddenly the electric cloud appeared above them. The "Albatross" wasonly sixty feet from the crest of the waves. In two or three secondsthe deck would be under water.
But Robur, seizing the propitious moment, rushed to the central houseand seized the levers. He turned on the currents from the piles nolonger neutralized by the electric tension of the surroundingatmosphere. In a moment the screws had regained their normal speedand checked the descent; and the "Albatross" remained at her slightelevation while her propellers drove her swiftly out of reach of thestorm.
Frycollin, of course, had a bath--though only for a few seconds.When he was dragged on deck he was as wet as if he had been to thebottom of the sea. As may be imagined, he cried no more.
In the morning of the 4th of July the "Albatross" had passed over thenorthern shore of the Caspian.
