A Search For Algeria
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BOOK I.
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Off On A Comet
The Dobryna, a strong craft of 200 tons burden, had been built in the
famous shipbuilding yards in the Isle of Wight. Her sea going qualities
were excellent, and would have amply sufficed for a circumnavigation of
the globe. Count Timascheff was himself no sailor, but had the
greatest confidence in leaving the command of his yacht in the hands of
Lieutenant Procope, a man of about thirty years of age, and an excellent
eaman. Born on the count's estates, the son of a serf who had been
emancipated long before the famous edict of the Emperor Alexander,
Procope was sincerely attached, by a tie of gratitude as well as of duty
and affection, to his patron's service. After an apprenticeship on a
merchant ship he had entered the imperial navy, and had already reached
the rank of lieutenant when the count appointed him to the charge of
his own private yacht, in which he was accustomed to spend by far the
greater part of his time, throughout the winter generally cruising in
the Mediterranean, whilst in the summer he visited more northern waters.
The ship could not have been in better hands. The lieutenant was well
informed in many matters outside the pale of his profession, and his
attainments were alike creditable to himself and to the liberal friend
who had given him his education. He had an excellent crew, consisting
of Tiglew the engineer, four sailors named Niegoch, Tolstoy, Etkef, and
Panofka, and Mochel the cook. These men, without exception, were all
sons of the count's tenants, and so tenaciously, even out at sea, did
they cling to their old traditions, that it mattered little to them what
physical disorganization ensued, so long as they felt they were sharing
the experiences of their lord and master. The late astounding events,
however, had rendered Procope manifestly uneasy, and not the less
so from his consciousness that the count secretly partook of his own
anxiety.
Steam up and canvas spread, the schooner started eastwards. With a
favorable wind she would certainly have made eleven knots an hour
had not the high waves somewhat impeded her progress. Although only a
moderate breeze was blowing, the sea was rough, a circumstance to
be accounted for only by the diminution in the force of the earth's
attraction rendering the liquid particles so buoyant, that by the mere
effect of oscillation they were carried to a height that was quite
unprecedented. M. Arago has fixed twenty-five or twenty-six feet as
the maximum elevation ever attained by the highest waves, and his
astonishment would have been very great to see them rising fifty or
even sixty feet. Nor did these waves in the usual way partially unfurl
themselves and rebound against the sides of the vessel; they might
rather be described as long undulations carrying the schooner (its
weight diminished from the same cause as that of the water) alternately
to such heights and depths, that if Captain Servadac had been subject to
seasickness he must have found himself in sorry plight. As the pitching,
however, was the result of a long uniform swell, the yacht did not labor
much harder than she would against the ordinary short strong waves of
the Mediterranean; the main inconvenience that was experienced was the
diminution in her proper rate of speed.
For a few miles she followed the line hitherto presumably occupied by
the coast of Algeria; but no land appeared to the south. The changed
positions of the planets rendered them of no avail for purposes of
nautical observation, nor could Lieutenant Procope calculate his
latitude and longitude by the altitude of the sun, as his reckonings
would be useless when applied to charts that had been constructed for
the old order of things; but nevertheless, by means of the log, which
gave him the rate of progress, and by the compass which indicated the
direction in which they were sailing, he was able to form an estimate
of his position that was sufficiently free from error for his immediate
need.
Happily the recent phenomena had no effect upon the compass; the
magnetic needle, which in these regions had pointed about 22 degrees
from the north pole, had never deviated in the least--a proof that,
although east and west had apparently changed places, north and south
continued to retain their normal position as cardinal points. The log
and the compass, therefore, were able to be called upon to do the work
of the sextant, which had become utterly useless.
On the first morning of the cruise Lieutenant Procope, who, like most
Russians, spoke French fluently, was explaining these peculiarities
to Captain Servadac; the count was present, and the conversation
perpetually recurred, as naturally it would, to the phenomena which
remained so inexplicable to them all.
"It is very evident," said the lieutenant, "that ever since the 1st of
January the earth has been moving in a new orbit, and from some unknown
cause has drawn nearer to the sun."
"No doubt about that," said Servadac; "and I suppose that, having
crossed the orbit of Venus, we have a good chance of running into the
orbit of Mercury."
"And finish up by a collision with the sun!" added the count.
"There is no fear of that, sir. The earth has undoubtedly entered upon
a new orbit, but she is not incurring any probable risk of being
precipitated onto the sun."
"Can you satisfy us of that?" asked the count.
"I can, sir. I can give you a proof which I think you will own is
conclusive. If, as you suppose, the earth is being drawn on so as to
be precipitated against the sun, the great center of attraction of our
system, it could only be because the centrifugal and centripetal forces
that cause the planets to rotate in their several orbits had been
entirely suspended: in that case, indeed, the earth would rush onwards
towards the sun, and in sixty-four days and a half the catastrophe you
dread would inevitably happen."
"And what demonstration do you offer," asked Servadac eagerly, "that it
will not happen?"
"Simply this, captain: that since the earth entered her new orbit
half the sixty-four days has already elapsed, and yet it is only just
recently that she has crossed the orbit of Venus, hardly one-third of
the distance to be traversed to reach the sun."
The lieutenant paused to allow time for reflection, and added:
"Moreover, I have every reason to believe that we are not so near the
sun as we have been. The temperature has been gradually diminishing;
the heat upon Gourbi Island is not greater now than we might ordinarily
expect to find in Algeria. At the same time, we have the problem still
unsolved that the Mediterranean has evidently been transported to the
equatorial zone."
Both the count and the captain expressed themselves reassured by his
representations, and observed that they must now do all in their power
to discover what had become of the vast continent of Africa, of which,
they were hitherto failing so completely to find a vestige.
Twenty-four hours after leaving the island, the Dobryna had passed
over the sites where Tenes, Cherchil, Koleah, and Sidi-Feruch once had
been, but of these towns not one appeared within range of the telescope.
Ocean reigned supreme. Lieutenant Procope was absolutely certain that
he had not mistaken his direction; the compass showed that the wind
had never shifted from the west, and this, with the rate of speed as
estimated by the log, combined to assure him that at this date, the 2d
of February, the schooner was in lat. 36 degrees 49 min N. and long. 3
degrees 25 min E., the very spot which ought to have been occupied by
the Algerian capital. But Algiers, like all the other coast-towns, had
apparently been absorbed into the bowels of the earth.
Captain Servadac, with clenched teeth and knitted brow, stood sternly,
almost fiercely, regarding the boundless waste of water. His pulse beat
fast as he recalled the friends and comrades with whom he had spent the
last few years in that vanished city. All the images of his past life
floated upon his memory; his thoughts sped away to his native France,
only to return again to wonder whether the depths of ocean would reveal
any traces of the Algerian metropolis.
"Is it not impossible," he murmured aloud, "that any city should
disappear so completely? Would not the loftiest eminences of the city
at least be visible? Surely some portion of the Casbah must still rise
above the waves? The imperial fort, too, was built upon an elevation
of 750 feet; it is incredible that it should be so totally submerged.
Unless some vestiges of these are found, I shall begin to suspect that
the whole of Africa has been swallowed in some vast abyss."
Another circumstance was most remarkable. Not a material object of any
kind was to be noticed floating on the surface of the water; not one
branch of a tree had been seen drifting by, nor one spar belonging to
one of the numerous vessels that a month previously had been moored
in the magnificent bay which stretched twelve miles across from Cape
Matafuz to Point Pexade. Perhaps the depths might disclose what the
surface failed to reveal, and Count Timascheff, anxious that Servadac
should have every facility afforded him for solving his doubts, called
for the sounding-line. Forthwith, the lead was greased and lowered.
To the surprise of all, and especially of Lieutenant Procope, the
line indicated a bottom at a nearly uniform depth of from four to five
fathoms; and although the sounding was persevered with continuously for
more than two hours over a considerable area, the differences of level
were insignificant, not corresponding in any degree to what would be
expected over the site of a city that had been terraced like the seats
of an amphitheater. Astounding as it seemed, what alternative was left
but to suppose that the Algerian capital had been completely leveled by
the flood?
The sea-bottom was composed of neither rock, mud, sand, nor shells;
the sounding-lead brought up nothing but a kind of metallic dust, which
glittered with a strange iridescence, and the nature of which it was
impossible to determine, as it was totally unlike what had ever been
known to be raised from the bed of the Mediterranean.
"You must see, lieutenant, I should think, that we are not so near the
coast of Algeria as you imagined."
The lieutenant shook his head. After pondering awhile, he said: "If
we were farther away I should expect to find a depth of two or three
hundred fathoms instead of five fathoms. Five fathoms! I confess I am
puzzled."
For the next thirty-six hours, until the 4th of February, the sea was
examined and explored with the most unflagging perseverance. Its depth
remained invariable, still four, or at most five, fathoms; and although
its bottom was assiduously dredged, it was only to prove it barren of
marine production of any type.
The yacht made its way to lat. 36 degrees, and by reference to the
charts it was tolerably certain that she was cruising over the site of
the Sahel, the ridge that had separated the rich plain of the Mitidja
from the sea, and of which the highest peak, Mount Boujereah, had
reached an altitude of 1,200 feet; but even this peak, which might have
been expected to emerge like an islet above the surface of the sea,
was nowhere to be traced. Nothing was to be done but to put about, and
return in disappointment towards the north.
Thus the Dobryna regained the waters of the Mediterranean without
discovering a trace of the missing province of Algeria.