evitable obstacle. The sun appearing for an
instant  at  noon,  Captain  Nemo took an observation as near as possible,
which  gave  our  situation at 51O 30' long. and 67O 39' of S. lat. We had
advanced  one  degree more in this Antarctic region. Of the liquid surface
of  the  sea there was no longer a glimpse. Under the spur of the Nautilus
lay stretched a vast plain, entangled with confused blocks. Here and there
sharp  points  and slender needles rising to a height of 200 feet; further
on  a  steep  shore,  hewn as it were with an axe and clothed with greyish
tints;  huge  mirrors,  reflecting a few rays of sunshine, half drowned in
the  fog.  And  over this desolate face of nature a stern silence reigned,
scarcely  broken  by  the  flapping  of  the wings of petrels and puffins.
Everything  was  frozen-even  the  noise. The Nautilus was then obliged to
stop  in  its adventurous course amid these fields of ice. In spite of our
efforts,  in spite of the powerful means employed to break up the ice, the
Nautilus remained immovable. Generally, when we can proceed no further, we
have  return  still  open  to  us;  but  here  return was as impossible as
advance, for every pass had closed behind us; and for the few moments when
we  were  stationary,  we  were  likely  to be entirely blocked, which did
indeed  happen  about  two o'clock in the afternoon, the fresh ice forming
around  its  sides  with astonishing rapidity. I was obliged to admit that
Captain  Nemo  was  more  than  imprudent.  I  was on the platform at that
moment.  The  Captain had been observing our situation for some time past,
when he said to me:
   "Well, sir, what do you think of this?"
   "I think that we are caught, Captain."
   "So,  M.  Aronnax,  you really think that the Nautilus cannot disengage
itself?"
   "With  difficulty,  Captain; for the season is already too far advanced
for you to reckon on the breaking of the ice."
   "Ah!  sir," said Captain Nemo, in an ironical tone, "you will always be
the  same.  You  see nothing but difficulties and obstacles. I affirm that
not  only  can  the  Nautilus  disengage  itself,  but also that it can go
further still."
   "Further to the South?" I asked, looking at the Captain.
   "Yes, sir; it shall go to the pole."
   "To the pole!" I exclaimed, unable to repress a gesture of incredulity.
   "Yes,"  replied  the  Captain,  coldly, "to the Antarctic pole- to that
unknown  point  from  whence springs every meridian of the globe. You know
whether I can do as I please with the Nautilus!"
   Yes,  I knew that. I knew that this man was bold, even to rashness. But
to  conquer those obstacles which bristled round the South Pole, rendering
it more inaccessible than the North, which had not yet been reached by the
boldest  navigators-was  it  not a mad enterprise, one which only a maniac
would  have conceived? It then came into my head to ask Captain Nemo if he
had  ever discovered that pole which had never yet been trodden by a human
creature?
   "No,  sir," he replied; "but we will discover it together. Where others
have failed, I will not fail. I have never yet led my Nautilus so far into
southern seas; but, I repeat, it shall go further yet."
   "I can well believe you, Captain," said I, in a slightly ironical tone.
"I  believe  you!  Let  us go ahead! There are no obstacles for us! Let us
smash this iceberg! Let us blow it up; and, if it resists, let us give the
Nautilus wings to fly over it!"
   "Over it, sir!" said Captain Nemo, quietly; "no, not over it, but under
it!"
   "Under  it!"  I  exclaimed,  a  sudden  idea  of the Captain's projects
flashing  upon  my  mind.  I  understood;  the  wonderful qualities of the
Nautilus were going to serve us in this superhuman enterprise.
   "I  see  we  are  beginning  to  understand one another, sir," said the
Captain,  half smiling. "You begin to see the possibility-I should say the
success-  of this attempt. That which is impossible for an ordinary vessel
is easy to the Nautilus. If a continent lies before the pole, it must stop
before  the continent; but if, on the contrary, the pole is washed by open
sea, it will go even to the pole."
   "Certainly,"  said  I, carried away by the Captain's reasoning; "if the
surface  of the sea is solidified by the ice, the lower depths are free by
the Providential law which has placed the maximum of density of the waters
of  the  ocean  one  degree  higher  than freezing-point; and, if I am not
mistaken,  the  portion of this iceberg which is above the water is as one
to four to that which is below."
   "Very  nearly,  sir;  for  one  foot of iceberg above the sea there are
three  below  it.  If these ice mountains are not more than 300 feet above
the  surface, they are not more than 900 beneath. And what are 900 feet to
the Nautilus?"
   "Nothing, sir."
   "It  could  even  seek  at  greater  depths that uniform temperature of
sea-water,  and  there  brave with impunity the thirty or forty degrees of
surface cold."
   "Just so, sir-just so," I replied, getting animated.
   "The  only  difficulty,"  continued Captain Nemo, "is that of remaining
several days without renewing our provision of air."
   "Is  that  all? The Nautilus has vast reservoirs; we can fill them, and
they will supply us with all the oxygen we want."
   "Well  thought of, M. Aronnax," replied the Captain, smiling. "But, not
wishing  you  to  accuse  me  of  rashness,  I  will first give you all my
objections."
   "Have you any more to make?"
   "Only one. It is possible, if the sea exists at the South Pole, that it
may  be  covered;  and,  consequently,  we  shall be unable to come to the
surface."
   "Good,  sir!  but  do  you  forget  that  the  Nautilus is armed with a
powerful spur, and could we not send it diagonally against these fields of
ice, which would open at the shocks."
   "Ah! sir, you are full of ideas to-day."
   "Besides,  Captain," I added, enthusiastically, "why should we not find
the  sea  open at the South Pole as well as at the North? The frozen poles
of  the  earth  do not coincide, either in the southern or in the northern
regions;  and, until it is proved to the contrary, we may suppose either a
continent or an ocean free from ice at these two points of the globe."
   "I think so too, M. Aronnax," replied Captain Nemo. "I only wish you to
observe  that, after having made so many objections to my project, you are
now crushing me with arguments in its favour!"
   The  preparations  for  this  audacious attempt now began. The powerful
pumps  of the Nautilus were working air into the reservoirs and storing it
at  high  pressure. About four o'clock, Captain Nemo announced the closing
of  the  panels  on  the  platform.  I  threw one last look at the massive
iceberg  which  we  were  going  to  cross.  The  weather  was  clear, the
atmosphere  pure  enough,  the cold very great, being 12O below zero; but,
the  wind  having gone down, this temperature was not so unbearable. About
ten  men  mounted  the sides of the Nautilus, armed with pickaxes to break
the  ice around the vessel, which was soon free. The operation was quickly
performed,  for  the fresh ice was still very thin. We all went below. The
usual  reservoirs  were  filled  with  the  newly-liberated water, and the
Nautilus  soon descended. I had taken my place with Conseil in the saloon;
through the open window we could see the lower beds of the Southern Ocean.
The  thermometer  went up, the needle of the compass deviated on the dial.
At  about 900 feet, as Captain Nemo had foreseen, we were floating beneath
the undulating bottom of the iceberg. But the Nautilus went lower still-it
went to the depth of four hundred fathoms. The temperature of the water at
the surface showed twelve degrees, it was now only ten; we had gained two.
I  need  not say the temperature of the Nautilus was raised by its heating
apparatus  to  a much higher degree; every manoeuvre was accomplished with
wonderful precision.
   "We shall pass it, if you please, sir," said Conseil.
   "I believe we shall," I said, in a tone of firm conviction.
   In this open sea, the Nautilus had taken its course direct to the pole,
without leaving the fifty-second meridian. From 67O 30' to 90O, twenty-two
degrees  and  a  half  of latitude remained to travel; that is, about five
hundred  leagues. The Nautilus kept up a mean speed of twenty-six miles an
hour-  the  speed of an express train. If that was kept up, in forty hours
we should reach the pole.
   For  a  part  of  the night the novelty of the situation kept us at the
window.  The  sea  was lit with the electric lantern; but it was deserted;
fishes did not sojourn in these imprisoned waters; they only found there a
passage  to  take them from the Antarctic Ocean to the open polar sea. Our
pace  was rapid; we could feel it by the quivering of the long steel body.
About  two  in  the morning I took some hours' repose, and Conseil did the
same. In crossing the waist I did not meet Captain Nemo: I supposed him to
be  in  the  pilot's  cage. The next morning, the 19th of March, I took my
post  once  more in the saloon. The electric log told me that the speed of
the  Nautilus  had  been slackened. It was then going towards the surface;
but  prudently  emptying  its  reservoirs very slowly. My heart beat fast.
Were  we going to emerge and regain the open polar atmosphere? No! A shock
told me that the Nautilus had struck the bottom of the iceberg, still very
thick,  judging from the deadened sound. We had in deed "struck," to use a
sea expression, but in an inverse sense, and at a thousand feet deep. This
would  give  three thousand feet of ice above us; one thousand being above
the water-mark. The iceberg was then higher than at its borders-not a very
reassuring  fact.  Several  times  that  day the Nautilus tried again, and
every time it struck the wall which lay like a ceiling above it. Sometimes
it  met  with  but 900 yards, only 200 of which rose above the surface. It
was  twice the height it was when the Nautilus had gone under the waves. I
carefully  noted  the  different  depths,  and  thus  obtained a submarine
profile  of  the  chain as it was developed under the water. That night no
change  had  taken place in our situation. Still ice between four and five
hundred  yards  in depth! It was evidently diminishing, but, still, what a
thickness  between  us  and  the  surface of the ocean! It was then eight.
According  to  the daily custom on board the Nautilus, its air should have
been  renewed  four hours ago; but I did not suffer much, although Captain
Nemo  had not yet made any demand upon his reserve of oxygen. My sleep was
painful  that  night;  hope  and fear besieged me by turns: I rose several
times.  The groping of the Nautilus continued. About three in the morning,
I  noticed that the lower surface of the iceberg was only about fifty feet
deep.  One hundred and fifty feet now separated us from the surface of the
waters.  The  iceberg was by degrees becoming an ice-field, the mountain a
plain.  My  eyes never left the manometer. We were still rising diagonally
to  the  surface,  which sparkled under the electric rays. The iceberg was
stretching both above and beneath into lengthening slopes; mile after mile
it was getting thinner. At length, at six in the morning of that memorable
day,  the  19th  of March, the door of the saloon opened, and Captain Nemo
appeared.
   "The sea is open!!" was all he said.


        Chapter XIV. THE SOUTH POLE

   I  rushed  on  to  the  platform.  Yes!  the  open  sea, with but a few
scattered pieces of ice and moving icebergs-a long stretch of sea; a world
of  birds  in  the  air,  and  myriads of fishes under those waters, which
varied  from  intense  blue  to  olive green, according to the bottom. The
thermometer  marked 3O C. above zero. It was comparatively spring, shut up
as  we  were  behind this iceberg, whose lengthened mass was dimly seen on
our northern horizon.
   "Are we at the pole?" I asked the Captain, with a beating heart.
   "I do not know," he replied. "At noon I will take our bearings."
   "But  will  the  sun show himself through this fog?" said I, looking at
the leaden sky.
   "However little it shows, it will be enough," replied the Captain.
   About ten miles south a solitary island rose to a height of one hundred
and four yards. We made for it, but carefully, for the sea might be strewn
with  banks. One hour afterwards we had reached it, two hours later we had
made  the  round of it. It measured four or five miles in circumference. A
narrow  canal  separated it from a considerable stretch of land, perhaps a
continent,  for  we  could  not see its limits. The existence of this land
seemed  to  give some colour to Maury's theory. The ingenious American has
remarked  that,  between the South Pole and the sixtieth parallel, the sea
is  covered with floating ice of enormous size, which is never met with in
the  North  Atlantic.  From this fact he has drawn the conclusion that the
Antarctic Circle encloses considerable continents, as icebergs cannot form
in  open sea, but only on the coasts. According to these calculations, the
mass  of  ice  surrounding  the  southern  pole  forms  a  vast  cap,  the
circumference  of  which must be, at least, 2,500 miles. But the Nautilus,
for  fear of running aground, had stopped about three cable-lengths from a
strand  over  which  reared a superb heap of rocks. The boat was launched;
the Captain, two of his men, bearing instruments, Conseil, and myself were
in  it.  It was ten in the morning. I had not seen Ned Land. Doubtless the
Canadian  did  not  wish  to  admit  the presence of the South Pole. A few
strokes  of  the  oar brought us to the sand, where we ran ashore. Conseil
was going to jump on to the land, when I held him back.
   "Sir,"  said  I  to  Captain  Nemo, "to you belongs the honour of first
setting foot on this land."
   "Yes,  sir,"  said the Captain, "and if I do not hesitate to tread this
South  Pole,  it  is  because,  up to this time, no human being has left a
trace there."
   Saying  this,  he  jumped  lightly  on to the sand. His heart beat with
emotion.  He  climbed  a  rock, sloping to a little promontory, and there,
with  his  arms  crossed,  mute and motionless, and with an eager look, he
seemed  to  take  possession of these southern regions. After five minutes
passed in this ecstasy, he turned to us.
   "When you like, sir."
   I  landed,  followed by Conseil, leaving the two men in the boat. For a
long  way  the  soil was composed of a reddish sandy stone, something like
crushed  brick, scoriae, streams of lava, and pumice-stones. One could not
mistake  its volcanic origin. In some parts, slight curls of smoke emitted
a  sulphurous  smell,  proving that the internal fires had lost nothing of
their  expansive  powers, though, having climbed a high acclivity, I could
see  no  volcano  for  a  radius  of  several miles. We know that in those
Antarctic  countries, James Ross found two craters, the Erebus and Terror,
in  full activity, on the 167th meridian, latitude 77O 32'. The vegetation
of  this desolate continent seemed to me much restricted. Some lichens lay
upon  the  black  rocks;  some microscopic plants, rudimentary diatomas, a
kind  of  cells  placed between two quartz shells; long purple and scarlet
weed,  supported  on  little  swimming bladders, which the breaking of the
waves  brought  to  the  shore. These constituted the meagre flora of this
region. The shore was strewn with molluscs, little mussels, and limpets. I
also  saw  myriads  of  northern  clios, one-and-a-quarter inches long, of
which  a whale would swallow a whole world at a mouthful; and some perfect
sea-butterflies, animating the waters on the skirts of the shore.
   There  appeared  on  the  high  bottoms  some coral shrubs, of the kind
which, according to James Ross, live in the Antarctic seas to the depth of
more  than  1,000  yards.  Then there were little kingfishers and starfish
studding  the  soil.  But  where  life abounded most was in the air. There
thousands  of  birds  fluttered  and  flew of all kinds, deafening us with
their  cries;  others  crowded  the  rock,  looking  at us as we passed by
without  fear,  and  pressing  familiarly  close  by  our feet. There were
penguins,  so  agile  in  the  water, heavy and awkward as they are on the
ground;  they  were  uttering  harsh  cries,  a  large  assembly, sober in
gesture,  but  extravagant  in clamour. Albatrosses passed in the air, the
expanse  of  their  wings being at least four yards and a half, and justly
called the vultures of the ocean; some gigantic petrels, and some damiers,
a kind of small duck, the underpart of whose body is black and white; then
there  were  a  whole series of petrels, some whitish, with brown-bordered
wings, others blue, peculiar to the Antarctic seas, and so oily, as I told
Conseil,  that  the  inhabitants  of  the Ferroe Islands had nothing to do
before lighting them but to put a wick in.
   "A  little more," said Conseil, "and they would be perfect lamps! After
that,  we  cannot  expect  Nature  to  have previously furnished them with
wicks!"
   About  half a mile farther on the soil was riddled with ruffs' nests, a
sort  of laying-ground, out of which many birds were issuing. Captain Nemo
had  some  hundreds hunted. They uttered a cry like the braying of an ass,
were  about  the size of a goose, slate-colour on the body, white beneath,
with  a  yellow  line  round  their throats; they allowed themselves to be
killed with a stone, never trying to escape. But the fog did not lift, and
at  eleven  the  sun had not yet shown itself. Its absence made me uneasy.
Without  it  no  observations  were  possible.  How, then, could we decide
whether we had reached the pole? When I rejoined Captain Nemo, I found him
leaning on a piece of rock, silently watching the sky. He seemed impatient
and  vexed.  But what was to be done? This rash and powerful man could not
command  the  sun  as  he did the sea. Noon arrived without the orb of day
showing  itself for an instant. We could not even tell its position behind
the curtain of fog; and soon the fog turned to snow.
   "Till  to-morrow,"  said  the  Captain, quietly, and we returned to the
Nautilus amid these atmospheric disturbances.
   The  tempest  of snow continued till the next day. It was impossible to
remain  on  the  platform.  From  the  saloon, where I was taking notes of
incidents  happening during this excursion to the polar continent, I could
hear  the  cries  of petrels and albatrosses sporting in the midst of this
violent  storm.  The  Nautilus  did not remain motionless, but skirted the
coast, advancing ten miles more to the south in the half-light left by the
sun  as  it  skirted  the  edge  of the horizon. The next day, the 20th of
March, the snow had ceased. The cold was a little greater, the thermometer
showing  2O  below zero. The fog was rising, and I hoped that that day our
observations  might  be  taken.  Captain Nemo not having yet appeared, the
boat  took  Conseil  and  myself  to  land. The soil was still of the same
volcanic  nature; everywhere were traces of lava, scoriae, and basalt; but
the  crater  which  had vomited them I could not see. Here, as lower down,
this  continent  was  alive  with myriads of birds. But their rule was now
divided  with  large  troops of sea-mammals, looking at us with their soft
eyes. There were several kinds of seals, some stretched on the earth, some
on  flakes  of ice, many going in and out of the sea. They did not flee at
our  approach,  never  having  had anything to do with man; and I reckoned
that there were provisions there for hundreds of vessels.
   "Sir," said Conseil, "will you tell me the names of these creatures?"
   "They are seals and morses."
   It  was  now eight in the morning. Four hours remained to us before the
sun  could be observed with advantage. I directed our steps towards a vast
bay  cut  in the steep granite shore. There, I can aver that earth and ice
were  lost  to  sight  by  the numbers of sea-mammals covering them, and I
involuntarily  sought  for  old  Proteus,  the  mythological  shepherd who
watched  these  immense  flocks  of  Neptune.  There  were more seals than
anything  else,  forming  distinct  groups,  male  and  female, the father
watching  over  his  family,  the  mother  suckling  her little ones, some
already  strong enough to go a few steps. When they wished to change their
place,  they  took  little jumps, made by the contraction of their bodies,
and  helped  awkwardly  enough  by their imperfect fin, which, as with the
lamantin,  their  cousins,  forms a perfect forearm. I should say that, in
the  water,  which  is  their  element-the  spine  of  these  creatures is
flexible;  with smooth and close skin and webbed feet-they swim admirably.
In  resting  on  the earth they take the most graceful attitudes. Thus the
ancients,  observing  their  soft  and  expressive  looks, which cannot be
surpassed  by  the  most  beautiful  look  a  woman  can give, their clear
voluptuous  eyes,  their  charming  positions,  and  the  poetry  of their
manners,  metamorphosed them, the male into a triton and the female into a
mermaid.  I  made Conseil notice the considerable development of the lobes
of  the  brain  in these interesting cetaceans. No mammal, except man, has
such  a  quantity  of  brain  matter; they are also capable of receiving a
certain  amount  of  education, are easily domesticated, and I think, with
other  naturalists, that if properly taught they would be of great service
as  fishing-dogs.  The  greater  part of them slept on the rocks or on the
sand. Amongst these seals, properly so called, which have no external ears
(in which they differ from the otter, whose ears are prominent), I noticed
several  varieties  of  seals  about  three yards long, with a white coat,
bulldog heads, armed with teeth in both jaws, four incisors at the top and
four  at  the  bottom,  and  two  large  canine  teeth  in  the shape of a
fleur-de-lis.  Amongst  them  glided  sea-elephants,  a kind of seal, with
short,  flexible  trunks.  The giants of this species measured twenty feet
round  and  ten  yards  and  a half in length; but they did not move as we
approached.
   "These creatures are not dangerous?" asked Conseil.
   "No;  not  unless you attack them. When they have to defend their young
their  rage  is  terrible,  and  it  is not uncommon for them to break the
fishing-boats to pieces."
   "They are quite right," said Conseil.
   "I do not say they are not."
   Two  miles  farther on we were stopped by the promontory which shelters
the  bay from the southerly winds. Beyond it we heard loud bellowings such
as a troop of ruminants would produce.
   "Good!" said Conseil; "a concert of bulls!"
   "No; a concert of morses."
   "They are fighting!"
   "They are either fighting or playing."
   We now began to climb the blackish rocks, amid unforeseen stumbles, and
over  stones  which the ice made slippery. More than once I rolled over at
the  expense  of  my  loins. Conseil, more prudent or more steady, did not
stumble, and helped me up, saying:
   "If,  sir,  you  would have the kindness to take wider steps, you would
preserve your equilibrium better."
   Arrived  at the upper ridge of the promontory, I saw a vast white plain
covered  with  morses.  They  were playing amongst themselves, and what we
heard were bellowings of pleasure, not of anger.
   As  I  passed these curious animals I could examine them leisurely, for
they did not move. Their skins were thick and rugged, of a yellowish tint,
approaching to red; their hair was short and scant. Some of them were four
yards and a quarter long. Quieter and less timid than their cousins of the
north,  they  did  not,  like them, place sentinels round the outskirts of
their encampment. After examining this city of morses, I began to think of
returning.  It  was  eleven  o'clock,  and,  if  Captain  Nemo  found  the
conditions  favourable  for  observations,  I  wished to be present at the
operation.  We  followed  a narrow pathway running along the summit of the
steep shore. At half-past eleven we had reached the place where we landed.
The  boat  had  run aground, bringing the Captain. I saw him standing on a
block  of basalt, his instruments near him, his eyes fixed on the northern
horizon, near which the sun was then describing a lengthened curve. I took
my  place  beside  him, and waited without speaking. Noon arrived, and, as
before, the sun did not appear. It was a fatality. Observations were still
wanting. If not accomplished to-morrow, we must give up all idea of taking
any.  We  were  indeed  exactly at the 20th of March. To-morrow, the 21st,
would  be  the equinox; the sun would disappear behind the horizon for six
months, and with its disappearance the long polar night would begin. Since
the  September equinox it had emerged from the northern horizon, rising by
lengthened  spirals up to the 21st of December. At this period, the summer
solstice  of  the northern regions, it had begun to descend; and to-morrow
was  to  shed  its  last  rays  upon  them.  I  communicated  my fears and
observations to Captain Nemo.
   "You  are  right, M. Aronnax," said he; "if to-morrow I cannot take the
altitude  of  the  sun,  I  shall not be able to do it for six months. But
precisely  because chance has led me into these seas on the 21st of March,
my bearings will be easy to take, if at twelve we can see the sun."
   "Why, Captain?"
   "Because  then  the orb of day described such lengthened curves that it
is  difficult  to  measure exactly its height above the horizon, and grave
errors may be made with instruments."
   "What will you do then?"
   "I shall only use my chronometer," replied Captain Nemo. "If to-morrow,
the  21st  of  March,  the  disc  of  the sun, allowing for refraction, is
exactly  cut  by the northern horizon, it will show that I am at the South
Pole."
   "Just  so,"  said I. "But this statement is not mathematically correct,
because the equinox does not necessarily begin at noon."
   "Very  likely, sir; but the error will not be a hundred yards and we do
not want more. Till to-morrow, then!"
   Captain  Nemo  returned  on board. Conseil and I remained to survey the
shore, observing and studying until five o'clock. Then I went to bed, not,
however, without invoking, like the Indian, the favour of the radiant orb.
The  next  day,  the  21st of March, at five in the morning, I mounted the
platform. I found Captain Nemo there.
   "The weather is lightening a little," said he. "I have some hope. After
breakfast we will go on shore and choose a post for observation."
   That  point  settled,  I sought Ned Land. I wanted to take him with me.
But the obstinate Canadian refused, and I saw that his taciturnity and his
bad  humour  grew day by day. After all, I was not sorry for his obstinacy
under  the  circumstances. Indeed, there were too many seals on shore, and
we  ought not to lay such temptation in this unreflecting fisherman's way.
Breakfast over, we went on shore. The Nautilus had gone some miles further
up  in the night. It was a whole league from the coast, above which reared
a  sharp peak about five hundred yards high. The boat took with me Captain
Nemo,  two  men  of  the  crew,  and the instruments, which consisted of a
chronometer,  a telescope, and a barometer. While crossing, I saw numerous
whales  belonging  to  the  three kinds peculiar to the southern seas; the
whale,  or  the  English  "right  whale,"  which  has  no  dorsal fin; the
"humpback,"  with reeved chest and large, whitish fins, which, in spite of
its  name,  do not form wings; and the fin-back, of a yellowish brown, the
liveliest  of  all the cetacea. This powerful creature is heard a long way
off when he throws to a great height columns of air and vapour, which look
like   whirlwinds  of  smoke.  These  different  mammals  were  disporting
themselves  in troops in the quiet waters; and I could see that this basin
of  the  Antarctic  Pole  serves  as  a place of refuge to the cetacea too
closely  tracked  by  the  hunters.  I also noticed large medusae floating
between the reeds.
   At  nine  we landed; the sky was brightening, the clouds were flying to
the  south,  and  the  fog  seemed  to  be leaving the cold surface of the
waters. Captain Nemo went towards the peak, which he doubtless meant to be
his  observatory.  It  was  a  painful  ascent over the sharp lava and the
pumice-stones,  in an atmosphere often impregnated with a sulphurous smell
from  the  smoking  cracks.  For  a  man unaccustomed to walk on land, the
Captain  climbed the steep slopes with an agility I never saw equalled and
which  a hunter would have envied. We were two hours getting to the summit
of  this  peak,  which  was  half porphyry and half basalt. From thence we
looked  upon  a  vast  sea which, towards the north, distinctly traced its
boundary  line upon the sky. At our feet lay fields of dazzling whiteness.
Over  our  heads a pale azure, free from fog. To the north the disc of the
sun  seemed  like  a  ball  of  fire, already horned by the cutting of the
horizon.  From  the  bosom  of  the  water  rose sheaves of liquid jets by
hundreds.  In  the distance lay the Nautilus like a cetacean asleep on the
water.  Behind us, to the south and east, an immense country and a chaotic
heap  of  rocks and ice, the limits of which were not visible. On arriving
at  the  summit  Captain  Nemo  carefully  took  the  mean  height  of the
barometer,  for he would have to consider that in taking his observations.
At  a quarter to twelve the sun, then seen only by refraction, looked like
a golden disc shedding its last rays upon this deserted continent and seas
which  never  man  had  yet  ploughed.  Captain  Nemo,  furnished  with  a
lenticular  glass  which,  by means of a mirror, corrected the refraction,
watched  the  orb  sinking  below  the  horizon  by  degrees,  following a
lengthened  diagonal.  I  held the chronometer. My heart beat fast. If the
disappearance of the half-disc of the sun coincided with twelve o'clock on
the chronometer, we were at the pole itself.
   "Twelve!" I exclaimed.
   "The  South  Pole!"  replied Captain Nemo, in a grave voice, handing me
the glass, which showed the orb cut in exactly equal parts by the horizon.
   I  looked  at the last rays crowning the peak, and the shadows mounting
by  degrees  up  its slopes. At that moment Captain Nemo, resting with his
hand on my shoulder, said:
   "I,  Captain  Nemo,  on  this 21st day of March, 1868, have reached the
South  Pole on the ninetieth degree; and I take possession of this part of
the globe, equal to one-sixth of the known continents."
   "In whose name, Captain?"
   "In my own, sir!"
   Saying  which,  Captain Nemo unfurled a black banner, bearing an "N" in
gold quartered on its bunting. Then, turning towards the orb of day, whose
last rays lapped the horizon of the sea, he exclaimed:
   "Adieu,  sun!  Disappear, thou radiant orb! rest beneath this open sea,
and let a night of six months spread its shadows over my new domains!"


        Chapter XV. ACCIDENT OR INCIDENT?

   The  next  day,  the 22nd of March, at six in the morning, preparations
for  departure  were  begun. The last gleams of twilight were melting into
night.  The  cold  was  great,  the  constellations  shone  with wonderful
intensity. In the zenith glittered that wondrous Southern Cross- the polar
bear of Antarctic regions. The thermometer showed 120 below zero, and when
the wind freshened it was most biting. Flakes of ice increased on the open
water.  The  sea seemed everywhere alike. Numerous blackish patches spread
on the surface, showing the formation of fresh ice. Evidently the southern
basin,  frozen  during the six winter months, was absolutely inaccessible.
What  became  of  the whales in that time? Doubtless they went beneath the
icebergs,  seeking  more  practicable  seas.  As  to the seals and morses,
accustomed  to  live in a hard climate, they remained on these icy shores.
These  creatures  have the instinct to break holes in the ice-field and to
keep  them  open.  To  these  holes  they come for breath; when the birds,
driven  away  by  the cold, have emigrated to the north, these sea mammals
remain  sole  masters  of  the  polar  continent.  But the reservoirs were
filling  with water, and the Nautilus was slowly descending. At 1,000 feet
deep  it  stopped;  its  screw  beat  the  waves, and it advanced straight
towards  the  north  at a speed of fifteen miles an hour. Towards night it
was  already  floating  under the immense body of the iceberg. At three in
the  morning  I  was  awakened  by a violent shock. I sat up in my bed and
listened  in  the darkness, when I was thrown into the middle of the room.
The Nautilus, after having struck, had rebounded violently. I groped along
the  partition,  and  by the staircase to the saloon, which was lit by the
luminous  ceiling.  The  furniture was upset. Fortunately the windows were
firmly  set,  and  had held fast. The pictures on the starboard side, from
being  no longer vertical, were clinging to the paper, whilst those of the
port  side  were  hanging  at least a foot from the wall. The Nautilus was
lying on its starboard side perfectly motionless. I heard footsteps, and a
confusion of voices; but Captain Nemo did not appear. As I was leaving the
saloon, Ned Land and Conseil entered.
   "What is the matter?" said I, at once.
   "I came to ask you, sir," replied Conseil.
   "Confound  it!"  exclaimed  the  Canadian,  "I  know  well  enough! The
Nautilus  has struck; and, judging by the way she lies, I do not think she
will right herself as she did the first time in Torres Straits."
   "But," I asked, "has she at least come to the surface of the sea?"
   "We do not know," said Conseil.
   "It  is  easy  to decide," I answered. I consulted the manometer. To my
great  surprise,  it  showed  a depth of more than 180 fathoms. "What does
that mean?" I exclaimed.
   "We must ask Captain Nemo," said Conseil.
   "But where shall we find him?" said Ned Land.
   "Follow me," said I, to my companions.
   We  left  the  saloon.  There  was no one in the library. At the centre
staircase,  by  the berths of the ship's crew, there was no one. I thought
that Captain Nemo must be in the pilot's cage. It was best to wait. We all
returned  to  the  saloon.  For twenty minutes we remained thus, trying to
hear  the  slightest noise which might be made on board the Nautilus, when
Captain  Nemo  entered.  He  seemed  not to see us; his face, generally so
impassive,  showed  signs  of uneasiness. He watched the compass silently,
then  the manometer; and, going to the planisphere, placed his finger on a
spot  representing the southern seas. I would not interrupt him; but, some
minutes  later,  when  he  turned towards me, I said, using one of his own
expressions in the Torres Straits:
   "An incident, Captain?"
   "No, sir; an accident this time."
   "Serious?"
   "Perhaps."
   "Is the danger immediate?"
   "No."
   "The Nautilus has stranded?"
   "Yes."
   "And this has happened-how?"
   "From a caprice of nature, not from the ignorance of man. Not a mistake
has  been  made  in  the  working.  But we cannot prevent equilibrium from
producing  its  effects.  We  may  brave  human laws, but we cannot resist
natural ones."
   Captain   Nemo   had   chosen   a  strange  moment  for  uttering  this
philosophical reflection. On the whole, his answer helped me little.
   "May I ask, sir, the cause of this accident?"
   "An  enormous  block  of  ice,  a  whole mountain, has turned over," he
replied.  "When  icebergs  are undermined at their base by warmer water or
reiterated shocks their centre of gravity rises, and the whole thing turns
over.  This  is what has happened; one of these blocks, as it fell, struck
the  Nautilus,  then,  gliding under its hull, raised it with irresistible
force,  bringing it into beds which are not so thick, where it is lying on
its side."
   "But  can  we not get the Nautilus off by emptying its reservoirs, that
it might regain its equilibrium?"
   "That,  sir,  is  being  done  at  this  moment.  You can hear the pump
working.  Look  at the needle of the manometer; it shows that the Nautilus
is  rising,  but  the  block  of  ice is floating with it; and, until some
obstacle stops its ascending motion, our position cannot be altered."
   Indeed,  the  Nautilus  still  held  the  same  position  to starboard;
doubtless it would right itself when the block stopped. But at this moment
who  knows  if  we  may  not be frightfully crushed between the two glassy
surfaces?  I  reflected  on  all the consequences of our position. Captain
Nemo never took his eyes off the manometer. Since the fall of the iceberg,
the  Nautilus  had risen about a hundred and fifty feet, but it still made
the same angle with the perpendicular. Suddenly a slight movement was felt
in  the  hold.  Evidently  it was righting a little. Things hanging in the
saloon  were  sensibly  returning to their normal position. The partitions
were nearing the upright. No one spoke. With beating hearts we watched and
felt  the  straightening. The boards became horizontal under our feet. Ten
minutes passed.
   "At last we have righted!" I exclaimed.
   "Yes," said Captain Nemo, going to the door of the saloon.
   "But are we floating?" I asked.
   "Certainly," he replied; "since the reservoirs are not empty; and, when
empty, the Nautilus must rise to the surface of the sea."
   We  were  in  open sea; but at a distance of about ten yards, on either
side  of  the Nautilus, rose a dazzling wall of ice. Above and beneath the
same  wall. Above, because the lower surface of the iceberg stretched over
us  like an immense ceiling. Beneath, because the overturned block, having
slid  by  degrees,  had  found a resting-place on the lateral walls, which
kept  it in that position. The Nautilus was really imprisoned in a perfect
tunnel  of ice more than twenty yards in breadth, filled with quiet water.
It was easy to get out of it by going either forward or backward, and then
make  a free passage under the iceberg, some hundreds of yards deeper. The
luminous   ceiling  had  been  extinguished,  but  the  saloon  was  still
resplendent  with  intense  light. It was the powerful reflection from the
glass partition sent violently back to the sheets of the lantern. I cannot
describe  the  effect  of  the  voltaic  rays  upon  the  great  blocks so
capriciously  cut; upon every angle, every ridge, every facet was thrown a
different  light, according to the nature of the veins running through the
ice;  a  dazzling mine of gems, particularly of sapphires, their blue rays
crossing with the green of the emerald. Here and there were opal shades of
wonderful  softness,  running  through bright spots like diamonds of fire,
the  brilliancy  of which the eye could not bear. The power of the lantern
seemed  increased a hundredfold, like a lamp through the lenticular plates
of a first-class lighthouse.
   "How beautiful! how beautiful!" cried Conseil.
   "Yes," I said, "it is a wonderful sight. Is it not, Ned?"
   "Yes,  confound it! Yes," answered Ned Land, "it is superb! I am mad at
being  obliged to admit it. No one has ever seen anything like it; but the
sight may cost us dear. And, if I must say all, I think we are seeing here
things which God never intended man to see."
   Ned  was  right, it was too beautiful. Suddenly a cry from Conseil made
me turn.
   "What is it?" I asked.
   "Shut  your eyes, sir! Do not look, sir!" Saying which, Conseil clapped
his hands over his eyes.
   "But what is the matter, my boy?"
   "I am dazzled, blinded."
   My  eyes  turned involuntarily towards the glass, but I could not stand
the  fire which seemed to devour them. I understood what had happened. The
Nautilus  had put on full speed. All the quiet lustre of the ice-walls was
at  once changed into flashes of lightning. The fire from these myriads of
diamonds  was  blinding. It required some time to calm our troubled looks.
At last the hands were taken down.
   "Faith, I should never have believed it," said Conseil.
   It was then five in the morning; and at that moment a shock was felt at
the  bows of the Nautilus. I knew that its spur had struck a block of ice.
It must have been a false manoeuvre, for this submarine tunnel, obstructed
by  blocks,  was not very easy navigation. I thought that Captain Nemo, by
changing  his course, would either turn these obstacles or else follow the
windings  of  the  tunnel.  In  any  case, the road before us could not be
entirely  blocked.  But,  contrary to my expectations, the Nautilus took a
decided retrograde motion.
   "We