A Vanished Continent

: PART TWO

The next morning, the 19th of February, I saw the Canadian enter my

room. I expected this visit. He looked very disappointed.



"Well, sir?" said he.



"Well, Ned, fortune was against us yesterday."



"Yes; that Captain must needs stop exactly at the hour we intended

leaving his vessel."



"Yes, Ned, he had business at his bankers."



"His banke s!"



"Or rather his banking-house; by that I mean the ocean, where his

riches are safer than in the chests of the State."



I then related to the Canadian the incidents of the preceding night,

hoping to bring him back to the idea of not abandoning the Captain; but

my recital had no other result than an energetically expressed regret

from Ned that he had not been able to take a walk on the battlefield of

Vigo on his own account.



"However," said he, "all is not ended. It is only a blow of the

harpoon lost. Another time we must succeed; and to-night, if

necessary----"



"In what direction is the Nautilus going?" I asked.



"I do not know," replied Ned.



"Well, at noon we shall see the point."



The Canadian returned to Conseil. As soon as I was dressed, I went

into the saloon. The compass was not reassuring. The course of the

Nautilus was S.S.W. We were turning our backs on Europe.



I waited with some impatience till the ship's place was pricked on the

chart. At about half-past eleven the reservoirs were emptied, and our

vessel rose to the surface of the ocean. I rushed towards the

platform. Ned Land had preceded me. No more land in sight. Nothing

but an immense sea. Some sails on the horizon, doubtless those going

to San Roque in search of favourable winds for doubling the Cape of

Good Hope. The weather was cloudy. A gale of wind was preparing. Ned

raved, and tried to pierce the cloudy horizon. He still hoped that

behind all that fog stretched the land he so longed for.



At noon the sun showed itself for an instant. The second profited by

this brightness to take its height. Then, the sea becoming more

billowy, we descended, and the panel closed.



An hour after, upon consulting the chart, I saw the position of the

Nautilus was marked at 16 deg. 17' long., and 33 deg. 22' lat., at 150

leagues from the nearest coast. There was no means of flight, and I

leave you to imagine the rage of the Canadian when I informed him of

our situation.



For myself, I was not particularly sorry. I felt lightened of the load

which had oppressed me, and was able to return with some degree of

calmness to my accustomed work.



That night, about eleven o'clock, I received a most unexpected visit

from Captain Nemo. He asked me very graciously if I felt fatigued from

my watch of the preceding night. I answered in the negative.



"Then, M. Aronnax, I propose a curious excursion."



"Propose, Captain?"



"You have hitherto only visited the submarine depths by daylight, under

the brightness of the sun. Would it suit you to see them in the

darkness of the night?"



"Most willingly."



"I warn you, the way will be tiring. We shall have far to walk, and

must climb a mountain. The roads are not well kept."



"What you say, Captain, only heightens my curiosity; I am ready to

follow you."



"Come then, sir, we will put on our diving-dresses."



Arrived at the robing-room, I saw that neither of my companions nor any

of the ship's crew were to follow us on this excursion. Captain Nemo

had not even proposed my taking with me either Ned or Conseil.



In a few moments we had put on our diving-dresses; they placed on our

backs the reservoirs, abundantly filled with air, but no electric lamps

were prepared. I called the Captain's attention to the fact.



"They will be useless," he replied.



I thought I had not heard aright, but I could not repeat my

observation, for the Captain's head had already disappeared in its

metal case. I finished harnessing myself. I felt them put an

iron-pointed stick into my hand, and some minutes later, after going

through the usual form, we set foot on the bottom of the Atlantic at a

depth of 150 fathoms. Midnight was near. The waters were profoundly

dark, but Captain Nemo pointed out in the distance a reddish spot, a

sort of large light shining brilliantly about two miles from the

Nautilus. What this fire might be, what could feed it, why and how it

lit up the liquid mass, I could not say. In any case, it did light our

way, vaguely, it is true, but I soon accustomed myself to the peculiar

darkness, and I understood, under such circumstances, the uselessness

of the Ruhmkorff apparatus.



As we advanced, I heard a kind of pattering above my head. The noise

redoubling, sometimes producing a continual shower, I soon understood

the cause. It was rain falling violently, and crisping the surface of

the waves. Instinctively the thought flashed across my mind that I

should be wet through! By the water! in the midst of the water! I

could not help laughing at the odd idea. But, indeed, in the thick

diving-dress, the liquid element is no longer felt, and one only seems

to be in an atmosphere somewhat denser than the terrestrial atmosphere.

Nothing more.



After half an hour's walk the soil became stony. Medusae, microscopic

crustacea, and pennatules lit it slightly with their phosphorescent

gleam. I caught a glimpse of pieces of stone covered with millions of

zoophytes and masses of sea weed. My feet often slipped upon this

sticky carpet of sea weed, and without my iron-tipped stick I should

have fallen more than once. In turning round, I could still see the

whitish lantern of the Nautilus beginning to pale in the distance.



But the rosy light which guided us increased and lit up the horizon.

The presence of this fire under water puzzled me in the highest degree.

Was I going towards a natural phenomenon as yet unknown to the savants

of the earth? Or even (for this thought crossed my brain) had the hand

of man aught to do with this conflagration? Had he fanned this flame?

Was I to meet in these depths companions and friends of Captain Nemo

whom he was going to visit, and who, like him, led this strange

existence? Should I find down there a whole colony of exiles who,

weary of the miseries of this earth, had sought and found independence

in the deep ocean? All these foolish and unreasonable ideas pursued

me. And in this condition of mind, over-excited by the succession of

wonders continually passing before my eyes, I should not have been

surprised to meet at the bottom of the sea one of those submarine towns

of which Captain Nemo dreamed.



Our road grew lighter and lighter. The white glimmer came in rays from

the summit of a mountain about 800 feet high. But what I saw was

simply a reflection, developed by the clearness of the waters. The

source of this inexplicable light was a fire on the opposite side of

the mountain.



In the midst of this stony maze furrowing the bottom of the Atlantic,

Captain Nemo advanced without hesitation. He knew this dreary road.

Doubtless he had often travelled over it, and could not lose himself.

I followed him with unshaken confidence. He seemed to me like a genie

of the sea; and, as he walked before me, I could not help admiring his

stature, which was outlined in black on the luminous horizon.



It was one in the morning when we arrived at the first slopes of the

mountain; but to gain access to them we must venture through the

difficult paths of a vast copse.



Yes; a copse of dead trees, without leaves, without sap, trees

petrified by the action of the water and here and there overtopped by

gigantic pines. It was like a coal-pit still standing, holding by the

roots to the broken soil, and whose branches, like fine black paper

cuttings, showed distinctly on the watery ceiling. Picture to yourself

a forest in the Hartz hanging on to the sides of the mountain, but a

forest swallowed up. The paths were encumbered with seaweed and fucus,

between which grovelled a whole world of crustacea. I went along,

climbing the rocks, striding over extended trunks, breaking the sea

bind-weed which hung from one tree to the other; and frightening the

fishes, which flew from branch to branch. Pressing onward, I felt no

fatigue. I followed my guide, who was never tired. What a spectacle!

How can I express it? how paint the aspect of those woods and rocks in

this medium--their under parts dark and wild, the upper coloured with

red tints, by that light which the reflecting powers of the waters

doubled? We climbed rocks which fell directly after with gigantic

bounds and the low growling of an avalanche. To right and left ran

long, dark galleries, where sight was lost. Here opened vast glades

which the hand of man seemed to have worked; and I sometimes asked

myself if some inhabitant of these submarine regions would not suddenly

appear to me.



But Captain Nemo was still mounting. I could not stay behind. I

followed boldly. My stick gave me good help. A false step would have

been dangerous on the narrow passes sloping down to the sides of the

gulfs; but I walked with firm step, without feeling any giddiness. Now

I jumped a crevice, the depth of which would have made me hesitate had

it been among the glaciers on the land; now I ventured on the unsteady

trunk of a tree thrown across from one abyss to the other, without

looking under my feet, having only eyes to admire the wild sites of

this region.



There, monumental rocks, leaning on their regularly-cut bases, seemed

to defy all laws of equilibrium. From between their stony knees trees

sprang, like a jet under heavy pressure, and upheld others which upheld

them. Natural towers, large scarps, cut perpendicularly, like a

"curtain," inclined at an angle which the laws of gravitation could

never have tolerated in terrestrial regions.



Two hours after quitting the Nautilus we had crossed the line of trees,

and a hundred feet above our heads rose the top of the mountain, which

cast a shadow on the brilliant irradiation of the opposite slope. Some

petrified shrubs ran fantastically here and there. Fishes got up under

our feet like birds in the long grass. The massive rocks were rent

with impenetrable fractures, deep grottos, and unfathomable holes, at

the bottom of which formidable creatures might be heard moving. My

blood curdled when I saw enormous antennae blocking my road, or some

frightful claw closing with a noise in the shadow of some cavity.

Millions of luminous spots shone brightly in the midst of the darkness.

They were the eyes of giant crustacea crouched in their holes; giant

lobsters setting themselves up like halberdiers, and moving their claws

with the clicking sound of pincers; titanic crabs, pointed like a gun

on its carriage; and frightful-looking poulps, interweaving their

tentacles like a living nest of serpents.



We had now arrived on the first platform, where other surprises awaited

me. Before us lay some picturesque ruins, which betrayed the hand of

man and not that of the Creator. There were vast heaps of stone,

amongst which might be traced the vague and shadowy forms of castles

and temples, clothed with a world of blossoming zoophytes, and over

which, instead of ivy, sea-weed and fucus threw a thick vegetable

mantle. But what was this portion of the globe which had been

swallowed by cataclysms? Who had placed those rocks and stones like

cromlechs of prehistoric times? Where was I? Whither had Captain

Nemo's fancy hurried me?



I would fain have asked him; not being able to, I stopped him--I seized

his arm. But, shaking his head, and pointing to the highest point of

the mountain, he seemed to say:



"Come, come along; come higher!"



I followed, and in a few minutes I had climbed to the top, which for a

circle of ten yards commanded the whole mass of rock.



I looked down the side we had just climbed. The mountain did not rise

more than seven or eight hundred feet above the level of the plain; but

on the opposite side it commanded from twice that height the depths of

this part of the Atlantic. My eyes ranged far over a large space lit

by a violent fulguration. In fact, the mountain was a volcano.



At fifty feet above the peak, in the midst of a rain of stones and

scoriae, a large crater was vomiting forth torrents of lava which fell

in a cascade of fire into the bosom of the liquid mass. Thus situated,

this volcano lit the lower plain like an immense torch, even to the

extreme limits of the horizon. I said that the submarine crater threw

up lava, but no flames. Flames require the oxygen of the air to feed

upon and cannot be developed under water; but streams of lava, having

in themselves the principles of their incandescence, can attain a white

heat, fight vigorously against the liquid element, and turn it to

vapour by contact.



Rapid currents bearing all these gases in diffusion and torrents of

lava slid to the bottom of the mountain like an eruption of Vesuvius on

another Terra del Greco.



There indeed under my eyes, ruined, destroyed, lay a town--its roofs

open to the sky, its temples fallen, its arches dislocated, its columns

lying on the ground, from which one would still recognise the massive

character of Tuscan architecture. Further on, some remains of a

gigantic aqueduct; here the high base of an Acropolis, with the

floating outline of a Parthenon; there traces of a quay, as if an

ancient port had formerly abutted on the borders of the ocean, and

disappeared with its merchant vessels and its war-galleys. Farther on

again, long lines of sunken walls and broad, deserted streets--a

perfect Pompeii escaped beneath the waters. Such was the sight that

Captain Nemo brought before my eyes!



Where was I? Where was I? I must know at any cost. I tried to speak,

but Captain Nemo stopped me by a gesture, and, picking up a piece of

chalk-stone, advanced to a rock of black basalt, and traced the one

word:





ATLANTIS





What a light shot through my mind! Atlantis! the Atlantis of Plato,

that continent denied by Origen and Humbolt, who placed its

disappearance amongst the legendary tales. I had it there now before

my eyes, bearing upon it the unexceptionable testimony of its

catastrophe. The region thus engulfed was beyond Europe, Asia, and

Lybia, beyond the columns of Hercules, where those powerful people, the

Atlantides, lived, against whom the first wars of ancient Greeks were

waged.



Thus, led by the strangest destiny, I was treading under foot the

mountains of this continent, touching with my hand those ruins a

thousand generations old and contemporary with the geological epochs.

I was walking on the very spot where the contemporaries of the first

man had walked.



Whilst I was trying to fix in my mind every detail of this grand

landscape, Captain Nemo remained motionless, as if petrified in mute

ecstasy, leaning on a mossy stone. Was he dreaming of those

generations long since disappeared? Was he asking them the secret of

human destiny? Was it here this strange man came to steep himself in

historical recollections, and live again this ancient life--he who

wanted no modern one? What would I not have given to know his

thoughts, to share them, to understand them! We remained for an hour

at this place, contemplating the vast plains under the brightness of

the lava, which was some times wonderfully intense. Rapid tremblings

ran along the mountain caused by internal bubblings, deep noise,

distinctly transmitted through the liquid medium were echoed with

majestic grandeur. At this moment the moon appeared through the mass

of waters and threw her pale rays on the buried continent. It was but

a gleam, but what an indescribable effect! The Captain rose, cast one

last look on the immense plain, and then bade me follow him.



We descended the mountain rapidly, and, the mineral forest once passed,

I saw the lantern of the Nautilus shining like a star. The Captain

walked straight to it, and we got on board as the first rays of light

whitened the surface of the ocean.