by Jules Verne
It took us two hours to reach the summit of this half-crystal,half-basalt peak. From there our eyes scanned a vast sea, which scrawledits boundary line firmly against the background of the northern sky.At our feet: dazzling tracts of white. Over our heads:a pale azure, clear of mists. North of us: the sun's disk,like a ball of fire already cut into by the edge of the horizon.From the heart of the waters: jets of liquid rising like hundredsof magnificent bouquets. Far off, like a sleeping cetacean:the Nautilus. Behind us to the south and east: an immense shore,a chaotic heap of rocks and ice whose limits we couldn't see.
Arriving at the summit of this peak, Captain Nemo carefully determinedits elevation by means of his barometer, since he had to take thisfactor into account in his noon sights.
At 11:45 the sun, by then seen only by refraction, looked like agolden disk, dispersing its last rays over this deserted continentand down to these seas not yet plowed by the ships of man.
Captain Nemo had brought a spyglass with a reticular eyepiece,which corrected the sun's refraction by means of a mirror,and he used it to observe the orb sinking little by littlealong a very extended diagonal that reached below the horizon.I held the chronometer. My heart was pounding mightily.If the lower half of the sun's disk disappeared just as the chronometersaid noon, we were right at the pole.
"Noon!" I called.
"The South Pole!" Captain Nemo replied in a solemn voice,handing me the spyglass, which showed the orb of day cut into twoexactly equal parts by the horizon.
I stared at the last rays wreathing this peak, while shadows weregradually climbing its gradients.
Just then, resting his hand on my shoulder, Captain Nemo said to me:
"In 1600, sir, the Dutchman Gheritk was swept by stormsand currents, reaching latitude 64 degrees south and discoveringthe South Shetland Islands. On January 17, 1773, the famous Captain Cookwent along the 38th meridian, arriving at latitude 67 degrees 30';and on January 30, 1774, along the 109th meridian, he reachedlatitude 71 degrees 15'. In 1819 the Russian Bellinghausen lay onthe 69th parallel, and in 1821 on the 66th at longitude 111 degrees west.In 1820 the Englishman Bransfield stopped at 65 degrees.That same year the American Morrel, whose reports are dubious,went along the 42nd meridian, finding open sea at latitude 70 degrees14'. In 1825 the Englishman Powell was unable to get beyond 62 degrees.That same year a humble seal fisherman, the Englishman Weddell,went as far as latitude 72 degrees 14' on the 35th meridian, and asfar as 74 degrees 15' on the 36th. In 1829 the Englishman Forster,commander of the Chanticleer, laid claim to the Antarctic continentin latitude 63 degrees 26' and longitude 66 degrees 26'. On February 1,1831, the Englishman Biscoe discovered Enderby Land at latitude 68degrees 50', Adelaide Land at latitude 67 degrees on February 5,1832, and Graham Land at latitude 64 degrees 45' on February 21.In 1838 the Frenchman Dumont d'Urville stopped at the Ice Bankin latitude 62 degrees 57', sighting the Louis-Philippe Peninsula;on January 21 two years later, at a new southerly position of 66degrees 30', he named the Ad?lie Coast and eight days later,the Clarie Coast at 64 degrees 40'. In 1838 the American Wilkesadvanced as far as the 69th parallel on the 100th meridian.In 1839 the Englishman Balleny discovered the Sabrina Coast at the edgeof the polar circle. Lastly, on January 12, 1842, with his ships,the Erebus and the Terror, the Englishman Sir James Clark Ross foundVictoria Land in latitude 70 degrees 56' and longitude 171 degrees 7'east; on the 23rd of that same month, he reached the 74th parallel,a position denoting the Farthest South attained until then;on the 27th he lay at 76 degrees 8'; on the 28th at 77 degrees 32';on February 2 at 78 degrees 4'; and late in 1842 he returned to 71degrees but couldn't get beyond it. Well now! In 1868, on this 21stday of March, I myself, Captain Nemo, have reached the South Poleat 90 degrees, and I hereby claim this entire part of the globe,equal to one-sixth of the known continents."
"In the name of which sovereign, captain?"
"In my own name, sir!"
So saying, Captain Nemo unfurled a black flag bearing a gold "N"on its quartered bunting. Then, turning toward the orb of day,whose last rays were licking at the sea's horizon:
"Farewell, O sun!" he called. "Disappear, O radiant orb!Retire beneath this open sea, and let six months of night spreadtheir shadows over my new domains!"
CHAPTER 15
Accident or Incident?
THE NEXT DAY, March 22, at six o'clock in the morning, preparations fordeparture began. The last gleams of twilight were melting into night.The cold was brisk. The constellations were glittering withstartling intensity. The wonderful Southern Cross, polar starof the Antarctic regions, twinkled at its zenith.
The thermometer marked -12 degrees centigrade, and a fresh breezeleft a sharp nip in the air. Ice floes were increasing overthe open water. The sea was starting to congeal everywhere.Numerous blackish patches were spreading over its surface,announcing the imminent formation of fresh ice. Obviously thissouthernmost basin froze over during its six-month winter and becameutterly inaccessible. What happened to the whales during this period?No doubt they went beneath the Ice Bank to find more feasible seas.As for seals and walruses, they were accustomed to livingin the harshest climates and stayed on in these icy waterways.These animals know by instinct how to gouge holes in the ice fieldsand keep them continually open; they go to these holes to breathe.Once the birds have migrated northward to escape the cold,these marine mammals remain as sole lords of the polar continent.
Meanwhile the ballast tanks filled with water and the Nautilussank slowly. At a depth of 1,000 feet, it stopped. Its propeller churnedthe waves and it headed due north at a speed of fifteen miles per hour.Near the afternoon it was already cruising under the immense frozencarapace of the Ice Bank.
As a precaution, the panels in the lounge stayed closed,because the Nautilus's hull could run afoul of some submerged blockof ice. So I spent the day putting my notes into final form.My mind was completely wrapped up in my memories of the pole.We had reached that inaccessible spot without facing exhaustionor danger, as if our seagoing passenger carriage had glided there onrailroad tracks. And now we had actually started our return journey.Did it still have comparable surprises in store for me? I felt sureit did, so inexhaustible is this series of underwater wonders!As it was, in the five and a half months since fate had brought uson board, we had cleared 14,000 leagues, and over this track longerthan the earth's equator, so many fascinating or frightening incidentshad beguiled our voyage: that hunting trip in the Crespo forests,our running aground in the Torres Strait, the coral cemetery,the pearl fisheries of Ceylon, the Arabic tunnel, the fires of Santorini,those millions in the Bay of Vigo, Atlantis, the South Pole! During thenight all these memories crossed over from one dream to the next,not giving my brain a moment's rest.
At three o'clock in the morning, I was awakened by a violent collision.I sat up in bed, listening in the darkness, and then was suddenlyhurled into the middle of my stateroom. Apparently the Nautilushad gone aground, then heeled over sharply.
Leaning against the walls, I dragged myself down the gangwaysto the lounge, whose ceiling lights were on. The furniture had beenknocked over. Fortunately the glass cases were solidly securedat the base and had stood fast. Since we were no longer vertical,the starboard pictures were glued to the tapestries, while thoseto port had their lower edges hanging a foot away from the wall.So the Nautilus was lying on its starboard side, completelystationary to boot.
In its interior I heard the sound of footsteps and muffled voices.But Captain Nemo didn't appear. Just as I was about to leavethe lounge, Ned Land and Conseil entered.
"What happened?" I instantly said to them.
"I came to ask master that," Conseil replied.
"Damnation!" the Canadian exclaimed. "I know full well what happened!The Nautilus has gone aground, and judging from the way it's listing,I don't think it'll pull through like that first time inthe Torres Strait."
"But," I asked, "are we at least back on the surface of the sea?"
"We
have no idea," Conseil replied.
"It's easy to find out," I answered.
I consulted the pressure gauge. Much to my surprise, it indicateda depth of 360 meters.
"What's the meaning of this?" I exclaimed.
"We must confer with Captain Nemo," Conseil said.
"But where do we find him?" Ned Land asked.
"Follow me," I told my two companions.
We left the lounge. Nobody in the library. Nobody by the centralcompanionway or the crew's quarters. I assumed that Captain Nemowas stationed in the pilothouse. Best to wait. The three of usreturned to the lounge.
I'll skip over the Canadian's complaints. He had good groundsfor an outburst. I didn't answer him back, letting him blow offall the steam he wanted.
We had been left to ourselves for twenty minutes, trying to detectthe tiniest noises inside the Nautilus, when Captain Nemo entered.He didn't seem to see us. His facial features, usually so emotionless,revealed a certain uneasiness. He studied the compass and pressuregauge in silence, then went and put his finger on the world mapat a spot in the sector depicting the southernmost seas.
I hesitated to interrupt him. But some moments later, when he turnedto me, I threw back at him a phrase he had used in the Torres Strait:
"An incident, captain?"
"No, sir," he replied, "this time an accident."
"Serious?"
"Perhaps."
"Is there any immediate danger?"
"No."
"The Nautilus has run aground?"
"Yes."
"And this accident came about . . . ?"
"Through nature's unpredictability not man's incapacity.No errors were committed in our maneuvers. Nevertheless, we can'tprevent a loss of balance from taking its toll. One may defyhuman laws, but no one can withstand the laws of nature."
Captain Nemo had picked an odd time to philosophize. All in all,this reply told me nothing.
"May I learn, sir," I asked him, "what caused this accident?"
"An enormous block of ice, an entire mountain, has toppled over,"he answered me. "When an iceberg is eroded at the base by warmerwaters or by repeated collisions, its center of gravity rises.Then it somersaults, it turns completely upside down.That's what happened here. When it overturned, one of theseblocks hit the Nautilus as it was cruising under the waters.Sliding under our hull, this block then raised us with irresistible power,lifting us into less congested strata where we now lie on our side."
"But can't we float the Nautilus clear by emptying its ballast tanks,to regain our balance?"
"That, sir, is being done right now. You can hear the pumps working.Look at the needle on the pressure gauge. It indicates that the Nautilusis rising, but this block of ice is rising with us, and until someobstacle halts its upward movement, our position won't change."
Indeed, the Nautilus kept the same heel to starboard.No doubt it would straighten up once the block came to a halt.But before that happened, who knew if we might not hit the underbellyof the Ice Bank and be hideously squeezed between two frozen surfaces?
I mused on all the consequences of this situation. Captain Nemodidn't stop studying the pressure gauge. Since the topplingof this iceberg, the Nautilus had risen about 150 feet, but itstill stayed at the same angle to the perpendicular.
Suddenly a slight movement could be felt over the hull.Obviously the Nautilus was straightening a bit. Objects hangingin the lounge were visibly returning to their normal positions.The walls were approaching the vertical. Nobody said a word.Hearts pounding, we could see and feel the ship righting itself.The floor was becoming horizontal beneath our feet.Ten minutes went by.
"Finally, we're upright!" I exclaimed.
"Yes," Captain Nemo said, heading to the lounge door.
"But will we float off?" I asked him.
"Certainly," he replied, "since the ballast tanks aren't yet empty,and when they are, the Nautilus must rise to the surface of the sea."
The captain went out, and soon I saw that at his orders, the Nautilushad halted its upward movement. In fact, it soon would have hitthe underbelly of the Ice Bank, but it had stopped in time and wasfloating in midwater.
"That was a close call!" Conseil then said.
"Yes. We could have been crushed between these masses of ice,or at least imprisoned between them. And then, with no way to renewour air supply. . . . Yes, that was a close call!"
"If it's over with!" Ned Land muttered.
I was unwilling to get into a pointless argument with the Canadianand didn't reply. Moreover, the panels opened just then,and the outside light burst through the uncovered windows.
We were fully afloat, as I have said; but on both sides of the Nautilus,about ten meters away, there rose dazzling walls of ice.There also were walls above and below. Above, because theIce Bank's underbelly spread over us like an immense ceiling.Below, because the somersaulting block, shifting little by little,had found points of purchase on both side walls and had gottenjammed between them. The Nautilus was imprisoned in a genuinetunnel of ice about twenty meters wide and filled with quiet water.So the ship could easily exit by going either ahead or astern,sinking a few hundred meters deeper, and then taking an openpassageway beneath the Ice Bank.
The ceiling lights were off, yet the lounge was still brightly lit.This was due to the reflecting power of the walls of ice,which threw the beams of our beacon right back at us. Words cannotdescribe the effects produced by our galvanic rays on these huge,whimsically sculpted blocks, whose every angle, ridge, and facet gaveoff a different glow depending on the nature of the veins runninginside the ice. It was a dazzling mine of gems, in particularsapphires and emeralds, whose jets of blue and green crisscrossed.Here and there, opaline hues of infinite subtlety raced among sparksof light that were like so many fiery diamonds, their brilliancemore than any eye could stand. The power of our beacon was increaseda hundredfold, like a lamp shining through the biconvex lensesof a world-class lighthouse.
"How beautiful!" Conseil exclaimed.
"Yes," I said, "it's a wonderful sight! Isn't it, Ned?"
"Oh damnation, yes!" Ned Land shot back. "It's superb!I'm furious that I have to admit it. Nobody has ever seen the like.But this sight could cost us dearly. And in all honesty, I thinkwe're looking at things God never intended for human eyes."
Ned was right. It was too beautiful. All at once a yell fromConseil made me turn around.
"What is it?" I asked.
"Master must close his eyes! Master mustn't look!"
With that, Conseil clapped his hands over his eyes.
"But what's wrong, my boy?"
"I've been dazzled, struck blind!"
Involuntarily my eyes flew to the window, but I couldn't standthe fire devouring it.
I realized what had happened. The Nautilus had just started offat great speed. All the tranquil glimmers of the ice walls had thenchanged into blazing streaks. The sparkles from these myriads ofdiamonds were merging with each other. Swept along by its propeller,the Nautilus was traveling through a sheath of flashing light.
Then the panels in the lounge closed. We kept our hands over our eyes,which were utterly saturated with those concentric gleams thatswirl before the retina when sunlight strikes it too intensely.It took some time to calm our troubled vision.
Finally we lowered our hands.
"Ye gods, I never would have believed it," Conseil said.
"And I still don't believe it!" the Canadian shot back.
"When we return to shore, jaded from all these natural wonders,"Conseil added, "think how we'll look down on those pitiful land masses,those puny works of man! No, the civilized world won't be goodenough for us!"
Such words from the lips of this emotionless Flemish boy showedthat our enthusiasm was near the boiling point. But the Canadiandidn't fail to throw his dram of cold water over us.
"The civilized world!" he said, shaking his head. "Don't worry,Conseil my friend, we're never going
back to that world!"
By this point it was five o'clock in the morning.Just then there was a collision in the Nautilus's bow.I realized that its spur had just bumped a block of ice.It must have been a faulty maneuver because this underwater tunnelwas obstructed by such blocks and didn't make for easy navigating.So I had assumed that Captain Nemo, in adjusting his course, would goaround each obstacle or would hug the walls and follow the windingsof the tunnel. In either case our forward motion wouldn't receivean absolute check. Nevertheless, contrary to my expectations,the Nautilus definitely began to move backward.
"We're going astern?" Conseil said.
"Yes," I replied. "Apparently the tunnel has no way out at this end."
"And so . . . ?"
"So," I said, "our maneuvers are quite simple. We'll return in ourtracks and go out the southern opening. That's all."
As I spoke, I tried to sound more confident than I really felt.Meanwhile the Nautilus accelerated its backward movement, and runningwith propeller in reverse, it swept us along at great speed.
"This'll mean a delay," Ned said.
"What are a few hours more or less, so long as we get out."
"Yes," Ned Land repeated, "so long as we get out!"
I strolled for a little while from the lounge into the library.My companions kept their seats and didn't move. Soon I threw myselfdown on a couch and picked up a book, which my eyes skimmed mechanically.
