by Jules Verne
A quarter of an hour later, Conseil approached me, saying:
"Is it deeply fascinating, this volume master is reading?"
"Tremendously fascinating," I replied.
"I believe it. Master is reading his own book!"
"My own book?"
Indeed, my hands were holding my own work on the great ocean depths.I hadn't even suspected. I closed the book and resumed my strolling.Ned and Conseil stood up to leave.
"Stay here, my friends," I said, stopping them. "Let's stay togetheruntil we're out of this blind alley."
"As master wishes," Conseil replied.
The hours passed. I often studied the instruments hanging onthe lounge wall. The pressure gauge indicated that the Nautilusstayed at a constant depth of 300 meters, the compass that it keptheading south, the log that it was traveling at a speed of twentymiles per hour, an excessive speed in such a cramped area.But Captain Nemo knew that by this point there was no such thingas too fast, since minutes were now worth centuries.
At 8:25 a second collision took place. This time astern.I grew pale. My companions came over. I clutched Conseil's hand.Our eyes questioned each other, and more directly than if our thoughtshad been translated into words.
Just then the captain entered the lounge. I went to him.
"Our path is barred to the south?" I asked him.
"Yes, sir. When it overturned, that iceberg closed off every exit."
"We're boxed in?"
"Yes."
CHAPTER 16
Shortage of Air
CONSEQUENTLY, above, below, and around the Nautilus, there wereimpenetrable frozen walls. We were the Ice Bank's prisoners!The Canadian banged a table with his fearsome fist. Conseil kept still.I stared at the captain. His face had resumed its usual emotionlessness.He crossed his arms. He pondered. The Nautilus did not stir.
The captain then broke into speech:
"Gentlemen," he said in a calm voice, "there are two ways of dyingunder the conditions in which we're placed."
This inexplicable individual acted like a mathematics professorworking out a problem for his pupils.
"The first way," he went on, "is death by crushing. The secondis death by asphyxiation. I don't mention the possibility of deathby starvation because the Nautilus's provisions will certainly lastlonger than we will. Therefore, let's concentrate on our chancesof being crushed or asphyxiated."
"As for asphyxiation, captain," I replied, "that isn't a causefor alarm, because the air tanks are full."
"True," Captain Nemo went on, "but they'll supply air for only two days.Now then, we've been buried beneath the waters for thirty-six hours,and the Nautilus's heavy atmosphere already needs renewing.In another forty-eight hours, our reserve air will be used up."
"Well then, captain, let's free ourselves within forty-eight hours!"
"We'll try to at least, by cutting through one of thesewalls surrounding us."
"Which one?" I asked.
"Borings will tell us that. I'm going to ground the Nautiluson the lower shelf, then my men will put on their diving suitsand attack the thinnest of these ice walls."
"Can the panels in the lounge be left open?"
"Without ill effect. We're no longer in motion."
Captain Nemo went out. Hissing sounds soon told me that waterwas being admitted into the ballast tanks. The Nautilus slowlysettled and rested on the icy bottom at a depth of 350 meters,the depth at which the lower shelf of ice lay submerged.
"My friends," I said, "we're in a serious predicament, but I'mcounting on your courage and energy."
"Sir," the Canadian replied, "this is no time to bore you withmy complaints. I'm ready to do anything I can for the common good."
"Excellent, Ned," I said, extending my hand to the Canadian.
"I might add," he went on, "that I'm as handy with a pick as a harpoon.If I can be helpful to the captain, he can use me any way he wants."
"He won't turn down your assistance. Come along, Ned."
I led the Canadian to the room where the Nautilus's men were puttingon their diving suits. I informed the captain of Ned's proposition,which was promptly accepted. The Canadian got into hisunderwater costume and was ready as soon as his fellow workers.Each of them carried on his back a Rouquayrol device that the airtanks had supplied with a generous allowance of fresh oxygen.A considerable but necessary drain on the Nautilus's reserves.As for the Ruhmkorff lamps, they were unnecessary in the midstof these brilliant waters saturated with our electric rays.
After Ned was dressed, I reentered the lounge, whose windows hadbeen uncovered; stationed next to Conseil, I examined the stratasurrounding and supporting the Nautilus.
Some moments later, we saw a dozen crewmen set foot on the shelfof ice, among them Ned Land, easily recognized by his tall figure.Captain Nemo was with them.
Before digging into the ice, the captain had to obtain borings,to insure working in the best direction. Long bores were driven intothe side walls; but after fifteen meters, the instruments were stillimpeded by the thickness of those walls. It was futile to attackthe ceiling since that surface was the Ice Bank itself, more than400 meters high. Captain Nemo then bored into the lower surface.There we were separated from the sea by a ten-meter barrier.That's how thick the iceberg was. From this point on, it was an issueof cutting out a piece equal in surface area to the Nautilus's waterline.This meant detaching about 6,500 cubic meters, to dig a hole throughwhich the ship could descend below this tract of ice.
Work began immediately and was carried on with tireless tenacity.Instead of digging all around the Nautilus, which would haveentailed even greater difficulties, Captain Nemo had an immensetrench outlined on the ice, eight meters from our port quarter.Then his men simultaneously staked it off at several points aroundits circumference. Soon their picks were vigorously attackingthis compact matter, and huge chunks were loosened from its mass.These chunks weighed less than the water, and by an unusualeffect of specific gravity, each chunk took wing, as it were,to the roof of the tunnel, which thickened above by as much as itdiminished below. But this hardly mattered so long as the lowersurface kept growing thinner.
After two hours of energetic work, Ned Land reentered, exhausted.He and his companions were replaced by new workmen, including Conseiland me. The Nautilus's chief officer supervised us.
The water struck me as unusually cold, but I warmed up promptlywhile wielding my pick. My movements were quite free, although theywere executed under a pressure of thirty atmospheres.
After two hours of work, reentering to snatch some food and rest,I found a noticeable difference between the clean elastic fluidsupplied me by the Rouquayrol device and the Nautilus's atmosphere,which was already charged with carbon dioxide. The air hadn'tbeen renewed in forty-eight hours, and its life-giving qualitieswere considerably weakened. Meanwhile, after twelve hours hadgone by, we had removed from the outlined surface area a sliceof ice only one meter thick, hence about 600 cubic meters.Assuming the same work would be accomplished every twelve hours,it would still take five nights and four days to see the undertakingthrough to completion.
"Five nights and four days!" I told my companions. "And we haveoxygen in the air tanks for only two days."
"Without taking into account," Ned answered, "that once we're outof this damned prison, we'll still be cooped up beneath the Ice Bank,without any possible contact with the open air!"
An apt remark. For who could predict the minimum time we would needto free ourselves? Before the Nautilus could return to the surfaceof the waves, couldn't we all die of asphyxiation? Were thisship and everyone on board doomed to perish in this tomb of ice?It was a dreadful state of affairs. But we faced it head-on,each one of us determined to do his duty to the end.
During the night, in line with my forecasts, a new one-meterslice was removed from this immense socket. But in the morning,wearing my diving suit, I was crossing through the liquid massin a temperature of -6 degrees to -7 deg
rees centigrade, when I notedthat little by little the side walls were closing in on each other.The liquid strata farthest from the trench, not warmed by the movementsof workmen and tools, were showing a tendency to solidify.In the face of this imminent new danger, what would happen to ourchances for salvation, and how could we prevent this liquid mediumfrom solidifying, then cracking the Nautilus's hull like glass?
I didn't tell my two companions about this new danger.There was no point in dampening the energy they were puttinginto our arduous rescue work. But when I returned on board,I mentioned this serious complication to Captain Nemo.
"I know," he told me in that calm tone the most dreadful outlookcouldn't change. "It's one more danger, but I don't know any wayof warding it off. Our sole chance for salvation is to work fasterthan the water solidifies. We've got to get there first, that's all."
Get there first! By then I should have been used to this type of talk!
For several hours that day, I wielded my pick doggedly.The work kept me going. Besides, working meant leaving the Nautilus,which meant breathing the clean oxygen drawn from the air tanksand supplied by our equipment, which meant leaving the thin,foul air behind.
Near evening one more meter had been dug from the trench.When I returned on board, I was wellnigh asphyxiated by the carbondioxide saturating the air. Oh, if only we had the chemicalmethods that would enable us to drive out this noxious gas!There was no lack of oxygen. All this water contained a considerableamount, and after it was decomposed by our powerful batteries,this life-giving elastic fluid could have been restored to us.I had thought it all out, but to no avail because the carbon dioxideproduced by our breathing permeated every part of the ship.To absorb it, we would need to fill containers with potassiumhydroxide and shake them continually. But this substance was missingon board and nothing else could replace it.
That evening Captain Nemo was forced to open the spigots of his air tanksand shoot a few spouts of fresh oxygen through the Nautilus's interior.Without this precaution we wouldn't have awakened the following morning.
The next day, March 26, I returned to my miner's trade, working toremove the fifth meter. The Ice Bank's side walls and underbellyhad visibly thickened. Obviously they would come together beforethe Nautilus could break free. For an instant I was gripped by despair.My pick nearly slipped from my hands. What was the point of thisdigging if I was to die smothered and crushed by this water turningto stone, a torture undreamed of by even the wildest savages!I felt like I was lying in the jaws of a fearsome monster,jaws irresistibly closing.
Supervising our work, working himself, Captain Nemo passed near mejust then. I touched him with my hand and pointed to the wallsof our prison. The starboard wall had moved forward to a pointless than four meters from the Nautilus's hull.
The captain understood and gave me a signal to follow him.We returned on board. My diving suit removed, I went with himto the lounge.
"Professor Aronnax," he told me, "this calls for heroic measures,or we'll be sealed up in this solidified water as if it were cement."
"Yes!" I said. "But what can we do?"
"Oh," he exclaimed, "if only my Nautilus were strong enough to standthat much pressure without being crushed!"
"Well?" I asked, not catching the captain's meaning.
"Don't you understand," he went on, "that the congealing of thiswater could come to our rescue? Don't you see that by solidifying,it could burst these tracts of ice imprisoning us, just as its freezingcan burst the hardest stones? Aren't you aware that this force couldbe the instrument of our salvation rather than our destruction?"
"Yes, captain, maybe so. But whatever resistance to crushingthe Nautilus may have, it still couldn't stand such dreadful pressures,and it would be squashed as flat as a piece of sheet iron."
"I know it, sir. So we can't rely on nature to rescue us,only our own efforts. We must counteract this solidification.We must hold it in check. Not only are the side walls closing in,but there aren't ten feet of water ahead or astern of the Nautilus.All around us, this freeze is gaining fast."
"How long," I asked, "will the oxygen in the air tanks enable usto breathe on board?"
The captain looked me straight in the eye.
"After tomorrow," he said, "the air tanks will be empty!"
I broke out in a cold sweat. But why should I have beenstartled by this reply? On March 22 the Nautilus had divedunder the open waters at the pole. It was now the 26th.We had lived off the ship's stores for five days!And all remaining breathable air had to be saved for the workmen.Even today as I write these lines, my sensations are so intensethat an involuntary terror sweeps over me, and my lungs still seemshort of air!
Meanwhile, motionless and silent, Captain Nemo stood lost in thought.An idea visibly crossed his mind. But he seemed to brush it aside.He told himself no. At last these words escaped his lips:
"Boiling water!" he muttered.
"Boiling water?" I exclaimed.
"Yes, sir. We're shut up in a relatively confined area.If the Nautilus's pumps continually injected streams of boilingwater into this space, wouldn't that raise its temperature anddelay its freezing?"
"It's worth trying!" I said resolutely.
"So let's try it, professor."
By then the thermometer gave -7 degrees centigrade outside.Captain Nemo led me to the galley where a huge distillingmechanism was at work, supplying drinking water via evaporation.The mechanism was loaded with water, and the full electricheat of our batteries was thrown into coils awash in liquid.In a few minutes the water reached 100 degrees centigrade.It was sent to the pumps while new water replaced it in the process.The heat generated by our batteries was so intense that after simplygoing through the mechanism, water drawn cold from the sea arrivedboiling hot at the body of the pump.
The steaming water was injected into the icy water outside,and after three hours had passed, the thermometer gave the exteriortemperature as -6 degrees centigrade. That was one degree gained.Two hours later the thermometer gave only -4 degrees.
After I monitored the operation's progress, double-checking itwith many inspections, I told the captain, "It's working."
"I think so," he answered me. "We've escaped being crushed.Now we have only asphyxiation to fear."
During the night the water temperature rose to -1 degrees centigrade.The injections couldn't get it to go a single degree higher.But since salt water freezes only at -2 degrees, I was finallyassured that there was no danger of it solidifying.
By the next day, March 27, six meters of ice had been tornfrom the socket. Only four meters were left to be removed.That still meant forty-eight hours of work. The air couldn'tbe renewed in the Nautilus's interior. Accordingly, that day itkept getting worse.
An unbearable heaviness weighed me down. Near three o'clock inthe afternoon, this agonizing sensation affected me to an intense degree.Yawns dislocated my jaws. My lungs were gasping in their questfor that enkindling elastic fluid required for breathing,now growing scarcer and scarcer. My mind was in a daze.I lay outstretched, strength gone, nearly unconscious.My gallant Conseil felt the same symptoms, suffered the same sufferings,yet never left my side. He held my hand, he kept encouraging me,and I even heard him mutter:
"Oh, if only I didn't have to breathe, to leave more air for master!"
It brought tears to my eyes to hear him say these words.
Since conditions inside were universally unbearable, how eagerly,how happily, we put on our diving suits to take our turns working!Picks rang out on that bed of ice. Arms grew weary, hands wererubbed raw, but who cared about exhaustion, what difference were wounds?Life-sustaining air reached our lungs! We could breathe!We could breathe!
And yet nobody prolonged his underwater work beyond the timeallotted him. His shift over, each man surrendered to a gaspingcompanion the air tank that would revive him. Captain Nemo setthe example and was foremost in submitting to this strict discipline.When his time was up, he yielded his eq
uipment to another and reenteredthe foul air on board, always calm, unflinching, and uncomplaining.
That day the usual work was accomplished with even greater energy.Over the whole surface area, only two meters were left to be removed.Only two meters separated us from the open sea. But the ship's airtanks were nearly empty. The little air that remained had to besaved for the workmen. Not an atom for the Nautilus!
When I returned on board, I felt half suffocated. What a night!I'm unable to depict it. Such sufferings are indescribable.The next day I was short-winded. Headaches and staggering fits ofdizziness made me reel like a drunk. My companions were experiencingthe same symptoms. Some crewmen were at their last gasp.
That day, the sixth of our imprisonment, Captain Nemo concludedthat picks and mattocks were too slow to deal with the ice layer stillseparating us from open water--and he decided to crush this layer.The man had kept his energy and composure. He had subdued physicalpain with moral strength. He could still think, plan, and act.
At his orders the craft was eased off, in other words, it wasraised from its icy bed by a change in its specific gravity.When it was afloat, the crew towed it, leading it right abovethe immense trench outlined to match the ship's waterline.Next the ballast tanks filled with water, the boat sank, and wasfitted into its socket.
Just then the whole crew returned on board, and the double outsidedoor was closed. By this point the Nautilus was resting on a bedof ice only one meter thick and drilled by bores in a thousand places.
