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“Curse the beast!” Commander Farragut shouted.
The hunt was on again, and Commander Farragut leaned over to me, saying:
“I’ll chase that animal till my frigate explodes!”
“Yes,” I replied, “and nobody would blame you!”
We could still hope that the animal would tire out. But no such luck. Hour after hour went by without it showing the least sign of weariness.
Night fell and wrapped the surging ocean in its shadows. By then I thought our expedition had come to an end, that we would never see this fantastic animal again. I was mistaken.
At 10:50 in the evening, that electric light reappeared, just as clear and intense as the night before. The narwhale seemed motionless. Was it asleep perhaps, weary from its workday, just riding with the waves? This was our chance, and Commander Farragut was determined to take full advantage of it. He gave his orders.
Ned Land went to resume his post. The frigate approached without making a sound, stopped two cable lengths from the animal. Not a soul breathed on board. A profound silence reigned over the deck.
Just then I saw Ned Land below me, one hand grasping the martingale, the other brandishing his dreadful harpoon. Barely twenty feet separated him from the motionless animal.
All at once his arm shot forward and the harpoon was launched. I heard the weapon collide resonantly, as if it had hit some hard substance.
The electric light suddenly went out, and two enormous waterspouts crashed onto the deck of the frigate, racing like a torrent, toppling crewmen, breaking masts.
A hideous collision occurred, and thrown over the rail, I was hurled into the sea.
Chapter 7
Although I was startled by this unexpected descent, I have a very clear recollection of my sensations during it.
At first I was dragged about twenty feet under. I’m a good swimmer, and I didn’t lose my head [21 - I didn’t lose my head – я не растерялся]on the way down. With two vigorous kicks, I came back to the surface of the sea.
My first concern was to look for the frigate. Had the crew seen me? Would Commander Farragut put a longboat to sea? Could I hope to be rescued?
The gloom was profound. I saw a black mass disappearing eastward, where its running lights were fading out in the distance. It was the frigate.
“Help! Help!” I shouted, swimming desperately toward the Abraham Lincoln.
My clothes were weighing me down. The water glued them to my body, it was paralyzing my movements. I was sinking! I was suffocating!
“Help!”
This was the last shout I gave. My mouth was filling with water.
Suddenly my clothes were seized by energetic hands, somebody pulled me abruptly back to the surface of the sea, and yes, I heard these words pronounced in my ear:
“If master would oblige me by leaning on my shoulder, master will swim with much greater ease.”
With one hand I seized the arm of my loyal Conseil.
“You!” I said. “You!”
“Myself,” Conseil replied, “and at master’s command.”
“That collision threw you overboard along with me?”
“Not at all. But I followed master.”
The fine lad!
“What about the frigate?” I asked.
“The frigate?” Conseil replied, rolling over on his back. “Just as I jumped overboard, I heard the men at the helm shout, ‘Our propeller and rudder are smashed!’”
“Smashed?”
“Yes, smashed by the monster’s tusk! I believe it’s the sole injury the Abraham Lincoln has sustained. But most inconveniently for us, the ship can no longer steer. However, we still have a few hours before us, and in a few hours one can do a great many things!”
Conseil’s composure cheered me up. I swam more vigorously.
Our circumstances were dreadful. Perhaps they hadn’t seen us go overboard; and even if they had, the frigate couldn’t return to leeward after us. So we could count only on its longboats.
I decided to divide our energies so we wouldn’t both be worn out at the same time: while one of us lay on his back, staying motionless with arms crossed and legs outstretched, the other would swim and propel his partner forward.
I calculated on eight hours of swimming until sunrise. A strenuous task, but feasible, thanks to our relieving each other. The sea was pretty smooth and barely tired us.
Near one o’clock in the morning, I was overcome with tremendous exhaustion. And I soon heard the poor Conseil gasping; his breathing became shallow and quick. I didn’t think he could stand such exertions for much longer.
“Go on! Go on!” I told him.
“Leave master behind?” he replied. “Never!”
The moon appeared. The surface of the sea glistened under its rays. I held up my head. I saw the frigate. It was five miles from us and formed a dark, barely perceptible mass. But as for longboats, not a one in sight!
I tried to call out. What was the use at such a distance! My swollen lips wouldn’t let a single sound through. Conseil could still articulate a few words, and I heard him repeat at intervals:
“Help! Help!”
We listened. And it may have been a ringing in my ear, but it seemed to me that Conseil’s shout had received an answer back.
“Did you hear that?” I muttered.
“Yes, yes!”
And Conseil hurled another desperate plea into space.
This time there could be no mistake! A human voice had answered us! Was it the voice of some other victim of that collision suffered by our ship? Or was it one of the frigate’s longboats, hailing us out of the gloom?
Conseil made one final effort, he raised himself half out of the water, then fell back exhausted.
“What did you see?”
“I saw … ,” he muttered, “I saw … but we mustn’t talk … save our strength … !”
What had he seen? Conseil kept towing me. Sometimes he looked up, stared straight ahead, and shouted a request for directions, which was answered by a voice that was getting closer and closer. I could barely hear it. I was at the end of my strength; my fingers gave out; my hands were no help to me; my mouth opened convulsively, filling with brine. I raised my head one last time, then I fainted.
Someone was massaging me vigorously. I half opened my eyes.
“Conseil!” I muttered.
Just then, in the last light of a moon, I saw a face that wasn’t Conseil’s but which I recognized at once.
“Ned!” I exclaimed.
“In person, sir, and still after his prize!” the Canadian replied.
“You were thrown overboard after the frigate’s collision?”
“Yes, professor, but I was luckier than you, and right away I was able to set foot on this floating islet.”
“Islet?”
“Or in other words, on our gigantic narwhale.”
“Explain yourself, Ned.”
“It’s just that I soon realized why my harpoon couldn’t puncture its hide.”
“Why, Ned, why?”
“Because, professor, this beast is made of steel!”
The Canadian’s last words caused a sudden upheaval in my brain. I swiftly hoisted myself to the summit of this half-submerged creature or object that was serving as our refuge. I tested it with my foot. Obviously it was some hard, impenetrable substance, not the soft matter that makes up the bodies of our big marine mammals.
The blackish back supporting me was smooth and polished. And it was made of riveted plates[22 - riveted plates – листовое железо].
No doubts were possible! This animal, this monster, this natural phenomenon that had puzzled the whole scientific world, was an even more astonishing phenomenon—a phenomenon made by the hand of man.
Even if I had discovered that some fabulous, mythological creature really existed, it wouldn’t have given me such a terrific mental jolt.
There was no question now. We were lying on the back of some kind of underwater boat that boasted the shape of an immense steel fish.
“But then,” I said, “does this contraption contain some sort of locomotive mechanism, and a crew to run it?”
“Apparently,” the harpooner replied. “And yet for the three hours I’ve lived on this floating island, it hasn’t shown a sign of life.”
“This boat hasn’t moved at all?”
“No, Professor Aronnax. It just rides with the waves.”
“But we know that it’s certainly gifted with great speed. Now then, since an engine is needed to generate that speed, and a mechanic to run that engine, I conclude: we’re saved.”
“Humph!” Ned Land muttered. “As long as it swims, I’ve no complaints. But if it dives, I wouldn’t give $2.00 for my life!”
So it was imperative to make contact with someone inside the plating of this machine. I searched its surface for an opening or a hatch; but the lines of rivets were straight and uniform.
Moreover, the moon then disappeared and left us in profound darkness. We had to wait for daylight to find some way of getting inside this underwater boat.
Near four o’clock in the morning, the submersible picked up speed. We could barely cope with this dizzying rush.
Finally the long night was over. I thought I heard indistinct sounds, a sort of elusive harmony produced by distant musical chords. What beings lived inside this strange boat? What mechanical force allowed it to move about with such prodigious speed?
Daylight appeared. The morning mists surrounded us. I was about to proceed with a careful examination of the hull, when I felt it sinking little by little.
“Oh, damnation!” Ned Land shouted, stamping his foot on the resonant sheet iron. “Open up there, you navigators!”
Fortunately this submerging movement stopped. From inside the boat, there suddenly came noises of iron fastenings. One of the steel plates flew up, a man appeared, gave a bizarre yell, and instantly disappeared.
A few moments later, eight fellows appeared silently, their faces like masks, and dragged us down into their fearsome machine.
Chapter 8
This capture was carried out with lightning speed. My companions and I had no time to collect ourselves. I don’t know how they felt, but as for me, I was shivering all over. With whom were we dealing? Surely with some pirates.
The narrow hatch had barely closed over me when I was surrounded by profound darkness. I felt my naked feet clinging to the steps of an iron ladder. Ned Land and Conseil were behind me. At the foot of the ladder, a door opened and instantly closed behind us.
We were alone. Where? I couldn’t say, I couldn’t even imagine. All was darkness.
“Damnation!” Ned Land exclaimed. “These people are not very hospitable! I wouldn’t be surprised if they were cannibals!”
“Calm yourself, Ned my friend,” Conseil replied serenely. “We aren’t in a kettle yet!”
“In a kettle, no,” the Canadian shot back, “but in an oven for sure. Luckily my knife hasn’t left me, and I can still see well enough to use it. The first one of these bandits who lays a hand on me—”
“Don’t be so irritable, Ned,” I then told the harpooner, “and don’t ruin things for us. Who knows whether they might be listening to us? Instead, let’s try to find out where we are!”
Half an hour had already gone by without our situation changing, when our eyes saw blinding light. Our prison lit up all at once. I recognized the electric glow.
“Finally! It’s light enough to see!” Ned Land exclaimed, knife in hand.
“Yes,” I replied. “But as for our situation, we’re still in the dark.”
“Master must learn patience,” said the emotionless Conseil.
This sudden illumination of our cabin enabled me to examine its details. It contained only a table and five stools. Its invisible door must have been hermetically sealed. Not a sound reached our ears. Everything seemed dead inside this boat. Was it in motion, or stationary on the surface of the ocean, or sinking into the depths? I couldn’t tell.
A door opened, and two men appeared. One was short and stocky, powerfully muscled, broad shouldered, robust of limbs, the hair black and luxuriant, the mustache heavy, the eyes bright and penetrating.
The second stranger was a man of great pride, his calm, firm gaze seemed to reflect thinking on an elevated plane. Whether this individual was thirty-five or fifty years of age, I could not precisely state. He was tall, his forehead broad, his nose straight, his mouth clearly etched, his teeth magnificent, his hands refined. One unusual detail: his eyes were spaced a little far from each other and could instantly take in nearly a quarter of the horizon.
Wearing caps made of sea-otter fur, and shod in sealskin fishing boots, these two strangers were dressed in clothing made from some unique fabric that allowed great freedom of movement.
