At A Venture

: PART ONE
: Twenty Thousand Leagues Under The Sea

The voyage of the Abraham Lincoln was for a long time marked by no

special incident. But one circumstance happened which showed the

wonderful dexterity of Ned Land, and proved what confidence we might

place in him.



The 30th of June, the frigate spoke some American whalers, from whom we

learned that they knew nothing about the narwhal. But one of them, the

captain of the Monroe, knowing that Ned Land had shipped on board the

Abraham Lincoln, begged for his help in chasing a whale they had in

sight. Commander Farragut, desirous of seeing Ned Land at work, gave

him permission to go on board the Monroe. And fate served our Canadian

so well that, instead of one whale, he harpooned two with a double

blow, striking one straight to the heart, and catching the other after

some minutes' pursuit.



Decidedly, if the monster ever had to do with Ned Land's harpoon, I

would not bet in its favour.



The frigate skirted the south-east coast of America with great

rapidity. The 3rd of July we were at the opening of the Straits of

Magellan, level with Cape Vierges. But Commander Farragut would not

take a tortuous passage, but doubled Cape Horn.



The ship's crew agreed with him. And certainly it was possible that

they might meet the narwhal in this narrow pass. Many of the sailors

affirmed that the monster could not pass there, "that he was too big

for that!"



The 6th of July, about three o'clock in the afternoon, the Abraham

Lincoln, at fifteen miles to the south, doubled the solitary island,

this lost rock at the extremity of the American continent, to which

some Dutch sailors gave the name of their native town, Cape Horn. The

course was taken towards the north-west, and the next day the screw of

the frigate was at last beating the waters of the Pacific.



"Keep your eyes open!" called out the sailors.



And they were opened widely. Both eyes and glasses, a little dazzled,

it is true, by the prospect of two thousand dollars, had not an

instant's repose.



I myself, for whom money had no charms, was not the least attentive on

board. Giving but few minutes to my meals, but a few hours to sleep,

indifferent to either rain or sunshine, I did not leave the poop of the

vessel. Now leaning on the netting of the forecastle, now on the

taffrail, I devoured with eagerness the soft foam which whitened the

sea as far as the eye could reach; and how often have I shared the

emotion of the majority of the crew, when some capricious whale raised

its black back above the waves! The poop of the vessel was crowded on

a moment. The cabins poured forth a torrent of sailors and officers,

each with heaving breast and troubled eye watching the course of the

cetacean. I looked and looked till I was nearly blind, whilst Conseil

kept repeating in a calm voice:



"If, sir, you would not squint so much, you would see better!"



But vain excitement! The Abraham Lincoln checked its speed and made

for the animal signalled, a simple whale, or common cachalot, which

soon disappeared amidst a storm of abuse.



But the weather was good. The voyage was being accomplished under the

most favourable auspices. It was then the bad season in Australia, the

July of that zone corresponding to our January in Europe, but the sea

was beautiful and easily scanned round a vast circumference.



The 20th of July, the tropic of Capricorn was cut by 105d of longitude,

and the 27th of the same month we crossed the Equator on the 110th

meridian. This passed, the frigate took a more decided westerly

direction, and scoured the central waters of the Pacific. Commander

Farragut thought, and with reason, that it was better to remain in deep

water, and keep clear of continents or islands, which the beast itself

seemed to shun (perhaps because there was not enough water for him!

suggested the greater part of the crew). The frigate passed at some

distance from the Marquesas and the Sandwich Islands, crossed the

tropic of Cancer, and made for the China Seas. We were on the theatre

of the last diversions of the monster: and, to say truth, we no longer

LIVED on board. The entire ship's crew were undergoing a nervous

excitement, of which I can give no idea: they could not eat, they

could not sleep--twenty times a day, a misconception or an optical

illusion of some sailor seated on the taffrail, would cause dreadful

perspirations, and these emotions, twenty times repeated, kept us in a

state of excitement so violent that a reaction was unavoidable.



And truly, reaction soon showed itself. For three months, during which

a day seemed an age, the Abraham Lincoln furrowed all the waters of the

Northern Pacific, running at whales, making sharp deviations from her

course, veering suddenly from one tack to another, stopping suddenly,

putting on steam, and backing ever and anon at the risk of deranging

her machinery, and not one point of the Japanese or American coast was

left unexplored.



The warmest partisans of the enterprise now became its most ardent

detractors. Reaction mounted from the crew to the captain himself, and

certainly, had it not been for the resolute determination on the part

of Captain Farragut, the frigate would have headed due southward. This

useless search could not last much longer. The Abraham Lincoln had

nothing to reproach herself with, she had done her best to succeed.

Never had an American ship's crew shown more zeal or patience; its

failure could not be placed to their charge--there remained nothing but

to return.



This was represented to the commander. The sailors could not hide

their discontent, and the service suffered. I will not say there was a

mutiny on board, but after a reasonable period of obstinacy, Captain

Farragut (as Columbus did) asked for three days' patience. If in three

days the monster did not appear, the man at the helm should give three

turns of the wheel, and the Abraham Lincoln would make for the European

seas.



This promise was made on the 2nd of November. It had the effect of

rallying the ship's crew. The ocean was watched with renewed

attention. Each one wished for a last glance in which to sum up his

remembrance. Glasses were used with feverish activity. It was a grand

defiance given to the giant narwhal, and he could scarcely fail to

answer the summons and "appear."



Two days passed, the steam was at half pressure; a thousand schemes

were tried to attract the attention and stimulate the apathy of the

animal in case it should be met in those parts. Large quantities of

bacon were trailed in the wake of the ship, to the great satisfaction

(I must say) of the sharks. Small craft radiated in all directions

round the Abraham Lincoln as she lay to, and did not leave a spot of

the sea unexplored. But the night of the 4th of November arrived

without the unveiling of this submarine mystery.



The next day, the 5th of November, at twelve, the delay would (morally

speaking) expire; after that time, Commander Farragut, faithful to his

promise, was to turn the course to the south-east and abandon for ever

the northern regions of the Pacific.



The frigate was then in 31 deg. 15' N. lat. and 136 deg. 42' E. long.

The coast of Japan still remained less than two hundred miles to

leeward. Night was approaching. They had just struck eight bells;

large clouds veiled the face of the moon, then in its first quarter.

The sea undulated peaceably under the stern of the vessel.



At that moment I was leaning forward on the starboard netting.

Conseil, standing near me, was looking straight before him. The crew,

perched in the ratlines, examined the horizon which contracted and

darkened by degrees. Officers with their night glasses scoured the

growing darkness: sometimes the ocean sparkled under the rays of the

moon, which darted between two clouds, then all trace of light was lost

in the darkness.



In looking at Conseil, I could see he was undergoing a little of the

general influence. At least I thought so. Perhaps for the first time

his nerves vibrated to a sentiment of curiosity.



"Come, Conseil," said I, "this is the last chance of pocketing the two

thousand dollars."



"May I be permitted to say, sir," replied Conseil, "that I never

reckoned on getting the prize; and, had the government of the Union

offered a hundred thousand dollars, it would have been none the poorer."



"You are right, Conseil. It is a foolish affair after all, and one

upon which we entered too lightly. What time lost, what useless

emotions! We should have been back in France six months ago."



"In your little room, sir," replied Conseil, "and in your museum, sir;

and I should have already classed all your fossils, sir. And the

Babiroussa would have been installed in its cage in the Jardin des

Plantes, and have drawn all the curious people of the capital!"



"As you say, Conseil. I fancy we shall run a fair chance of being

laughed at for our pains."



"That's tolerably certain," replied Conseil, quietly; "I think they

will make fun of you, sir. And, must I say it----?"



"Go on, my good friend."



"Well, sir, you will only get your deserts."



"Indeed!"



"When one has the honour of being a savant as you are, sir, one should

not expose one's self to----"



Conseil had not time to finish his compliment. In the midst of general

silence a voice had just been heard. It was the voice of Ned Land

shouting:



"Look out there! The very thing we are looking for--on our weather

beam!"