Chapter Chapter 27 · THE RED SEA

he Indian

Ocean; some orange lucinae with rounded shells; rockfish three feet and

a half long, which raised themselves under the waves like hands ready

to seize one. There were also some panopyres, slightly luminous; and

lastly, some oculines, like magnificent fans, forming one of the

richest vegetations of these seas.

In the midst of these living plants, and under the arbours of the

hydrophytes, were layers of clumsy articulates, particularly some

raninae, whose carapace formed a slightly rounded triangle; and some

horrible looking parthenopes.

At about seven o’clock we found ourselves at last surveying the

oyster-banks on which the pearl-oysters are reproduced by millions.

Captain Nemo pointed with his hand to the enormous heap of oysters; and

I could well understand that this mine was inexhaustible, for Nature’s

creative power is far beyond man’s instinct of destruction. Ned Land,

faithful to his instinct, hastened to fill a net which he carried by

his side with some of the finest specimens. But we could not stop. We

must follow the Captain, who seemed to guide himself by paths known

only to himself. The ground was sensibly rising, and sometimes, on

holding up my arm, it was above the surface of the sea. Then the level

of the bank would sink capriciously. Often we rounded high rocks

scarped into pyramids. In their dark fractures huge crustacea, perched

upon their high claws like some war-machine, watched us with fixed

eyes, and under our feet crawled various kinds of annelides.

At this moment there opened before us a large grotto dug in a

picturesque heap of rocks and carpeted with all the thick warp of the

submarine flora. At first it seemed very dark to me. The solar rays

seemed to be extinguished by successive gradations, until its vague

transparency became nothing more than drowned light. Captain Nemo

entered; we followed. My eyes soon accustomed themselves to this

relative state of darkness. I could distinguish the arches springing

capriciously from natural pillars, standing broad upon their granite

base, like the heavy columns of Tuscan architecture. Why had our

incomprehensible guide led us to the bottom of this submarine crypt? I

was soon to know. After descending a rather sharp declivity, our feet

trod the bottom of a kind of circular pit. There Captain Nemo stopped,

and with his hand indicated an object I had not yet perceived. It was

an oyster of extraordinary dimensions, a gigantic tridacne, a goblet

which could have contained a whole lake of holy-water, a basin the

breadth of which was more than two yards and a half, and consequently

larger than that ornamenting the saloon of the _Nautilus_. I approached

this extraordinary mollusc. It adhered by its filaments to a table of

granite, and there, isolated, it developed itself in the calm waters of

the grotto. I estimated the weight of this tridacne at 600 lbs. Such an

oyster would contain 30 lbs. of meat; and one must have the stomach of

a Gargantua to demolish some dozens of them.

Captain Nemo was evidently acquainted with the existence of this

bivalve, and seemed to have a particular motive in verifying the actual

state of this tridacne. The shells were a little open; the Captain came

near and put his dagger between to prevent them from closing; then with

his hand he raised the membrane with its fringed edges, which formed a

cloak for the creature. There, between the folded plaits, I saw a loose

pearl, whose size equalled that of a coco-nut. Its globular shape,

perfect clearness, and admirable lustre made it altogether a jewel of

inestimable value. Carried away by my curiosity, I stretched out my

hand to seize it, weigh it, and touch it; but the Captain stopped me,

made a sign of refusal, and quickly withdrew his dagger, and the two

shells closed suddenly. I then understood Captain Nemo’s intention. In

leaving this pearl hidden in the mantle of the tridacne he was allowing

it to grow slowly. Each year the secretions of the mollusc would add

new concentric circles. I estimated its value at £500,000 at least.

After ten minutes Captain Nemo stopped suddenly. I thought he had

halted previously to returning. No; by a gesture he bade us crouch

beside him in a deep fracture of the rock, his hand pointed to one part

of the liquid mass, which I watched attentively.

About five yards from me a shadow appeared, and sank to the ground. The

disquieting idea of sharks shot through my mind, but I was mistaken;

and once again it was not a monster of the ocean that we had anything

to do with.

It was a man, a living man, an Indian, a fisherman, a poor devil who, I

suppose, had come to glean before the harvest. I could see the bottom

of his canoe anchored some feet above his head. He dived and went up

successively. A stone held between his feet, cut in the shape of a

sugar loaf, whilst a rope fastened him to his boat, helped him to

descend more rapidly. This was all his apparatus. Reaching the bottom,

about five yards deep, he went on his knees and filled his bag with

oysters picked up at random. Then he went up, emptied it, pulled up his

stone, and began the operation once more, which lasted thirty seconds.

The diver did not see us. The shadow of the rock hid us from sight. And

how should this poor Indian ever dream that men, beings like himself,

should be there under the water watching his movements and losing no

detail of the fishing? Several times he went up in this way, and dived

again. He did not carry away more than ten at each plunge, for he was

obliged to pull them from the bank to which they adhered by means of

their strong byssus. And how many of those oysters for which he risked

his life had no pearl in them! I watched him closely; his manœuvres

were regular; and for the space of half an hour no danger appeared to

threaten him.

I was beginning to accustom myself to the sight of this interesting

fishing, when suddenly, as the Indian was on the ground, I saw him make

a gesture of terror, rise, and make a spring to return to the surface

of the sea.

I understood his dread. A gigantic shadow appeared just above the

unfortunate diver. It was a shark of enormous size advancing

diagonally, his eyes on fire, and his jaws open. I was mute with horror

and unable to move.

The voracious creature shot towards the Indian, who threw himself on

one side to avoid the shark’s fins; but not its tail, for it struck his

chest and stretched him on the ground.

This scene lasted but a few seconds: the shark returned, and, turning

on his back, prepared himself for cutting the Indian in two, when I saw

Captain Nemo rise suddenly, and then, dagger in hand, walk straight to

the monster, ready to fight face to face with him. The very moment the

shark was going to snap the unhappy fisherman in two, he perceived his

new adversary, and, turning over, made straight towards him.

I can still see Captain Nemo’s position. Holding himself well together,

he waited for the shark with admirable coolness; and, when it rushed at

him, threw himself on one side with wonderful quickness, avoiding the

shock, and burying his dagger deep into its side. But it was not all

over. A terrible combat ensued.

[Illustration] A terrible combat began

The shark had seemed to roar, if I might say so. The blood rushed in

torrents from its wound. The sea was dyed red, and through the opaque

liquid I could distinguish nothing more. Nothing more until the moment

when, like lightning, I saw the undaunted Captain hanging on to one of

the creature’s fins, struggling, as it were, hand to hand with the

monster, and dealing successive blows at his enemy, yet still unable to

give a decisive one.

The shark’s struggles agitated the water with such fury that the

rocking threatened to upset me.

I wanted to go to the Captain’s assistance, but, nailed to the spot

with horror, I could not stir.

I saw the haggard eye; I saw the different phases of the fight. The

Captain fell to the earth, upset by the enormous mass which leant upon

him. The shark’s jaws opened wide, like a pair of factory shears, and

it would have been all over with the Captain; but, quick as thought,

harpoon in hand, Ned Land rushed towards the shark and struck it with

its sharp point.

The waves were impregnated with a mass of blood. They rocked under the

shark’s movements, which beat them with indescribable fury. Ned Land

had not missed his aim. It was the monster’s death-rattle. Struck to

the heart, it struggled in dreadful convulsions, the shock of which

overthrew Conseil.

But Ned Land had disentangled the Captain, who, getting up without any

wound, went straight to the Indian, quickly cut the cord which held him

to his stone, took him in his arms, and, with a sharp blow of his heel,

mounted to the surface.

We all three followed in a few seconds, saved by a miracle, and reached

the fisherman’s boat.

Captain Nemo’s first care was to recall the unfortunate man to life

again. I did not think he could succeed. I hoped so, for the poor

creature’s immersion was not long; but the blow from the shark’s tail

might have been his death-blow.

Happily, with the Captain’s and Conseil’s sharp friction, I saw

consciousness return by degrees. He opened his eyes. What was his

surprise, his terror even, at seeing four great copper heads leaning

over him! And, above all, what must he have thought when Captain Nemo,

drawing from the pocket of his dress a bag of pearls, placed it in his

hand! This munificent charity from the man of the waters to the poor

Cingalese was accepted with a trembling hand. His wondering eyes showed

that he knew not to what super-human beings he owed both fortune and

life.

At a sign from the Captain we regained the bank, and, following the

road already traversed, came in about half an hour to the anchor which

held the canoe of the _Nautilus_ to the earth.

Once on board, we each, with the help of the sailors, got rid of the

heavy copper helmet.

Captain Nemo’s first word was to the Canadian.

“Thank you, Master Land,” said he.

“It was in revenge, Captain,” replied Ned Land. “I owed you that.”

A ghastly smile passed across the Captain’s lips, and that was all.

“To the _Nautilus_,” said he.

The boat flew over the waves. Some minutes after we met the shark’s

dead body floating. By the black marking of the extremity of its fins,

I recognised the terrible melanopteron of the Indian Seas, of the

species of shark so properly called. It was more than twenty-five feet

long; its enormous mouth occupied one-third of its body. It was an

adult, as was known by its six rows of teeth placed in an isosceles

triangle in the upper jaw.

Whilst I was contemplating this inert mass, a dozen of these voracious

beasts appeared round the boat; and, without noticing us, threw

themselves upon the dead body and fought with one another for the

pieces.

At half-past eight we were again on board the _Nautilus_. There I

reflected on the incidents which had taken place in our excursion to

the Manaar Bank.

Two conclusions I must inevitably draw from it—one bearing upon the

unparalleled courage of Captain Nemo, the other upon his devotion to a

human being, a representative of that race from which he fled beneath

the sea. Whatever he might say, this strange man had not yet succeeded

in entirely crushing his heart.

When I made this observation to him, he answered in a slightly moved

tone:

“That Indian, sir, is an inhabitant of an oppressed country; and I am

still, and shall be, to my last breath, one of them!”

CHAPTER 27. THE RED SEA

In the course of the day of the 29th of January, the island of Ceylon

disappeared under the horizon, and the _Nautilus_, at a speed of twenty

miles an hour, slid into the labyrinth of canals which separate the

Maldives from the Laccadives. It coasted even the Island of Kiltan, a

land originally coraline, discovered by Vasco da Gama in 1499, and one

of the nineteen principal islands of the Laccadive Archipelago,

situated between 10° and 14° 30′ N. lat., and 69° 50′ 72″ E. long.

We had made 16,220 miles, or 7,500 (French) leagues from our

starting-point in the Japanese Seas.

The next day (30th January), when the _Nautilus_ went to the surface of

the ocean there was no land in sight. Its course was N.N.E., in the

direction of the Sea of Oman, between Arabia and the Indian Peninsula,

which serves as an outlet to the Persian Gulf. It was evidently a block

without any possible egress. Where was Captain Nemo taking us to? I

could not say. This, however, did not satisfy the Canadian, who that

day came to me asking where we were going.

“We are going where our Captain’s fancy takes us, Master Ned.”

“His fancy cannot take us far, then,” said the Canadian. “The Persian

Gulf has no outlet: and, if we do go in, it will not be long before we

are out again.”

“Very well, then, we will come out again, Master Land; and if, after

the Persian Gulf, the _Nautilus_ would like to visit the Red Sea, the

Straits of Bab-el-mandeb are there to give us entrance.”

“I need not tell you, sir,” said Ned Land, “that the Red Sea is as much

closed as the Gulf, as the Isthmus of Suez is not yet cut; and, if it

was, a boat as mysterious as ours would not risk itself in a canal cut

with sluices. And again, the Red Sea is not the road to take us back to

Europe.”

“But I never said we were going back to Europe.”

“What do you suppose, then?”

“I suppose that, after visiting the curious coasts of Arabia and Egypt,

the _Nautilus_ will go down the Indian Ocean again, perhaps cross the

Channel of Mozambique, perhaps off the Mascarenhas, so as to gain the

Cape of Good Hope.”

“And once at the Cape of Good Hope?” asked the Canadian, with peculiar

emphasis.

“Well, we shall penetrate into that Atlantic which we do not yet know.

Ah! friend Ned, you are getting tired of this journey under the sea;

you are surfeited with the incessantly varying spectacle of submarine

wonders. For my part, I shall be sorry to see the end of a voyage which

it is given to so few men to make.”

For four days, till the 3rd of February, the _Nautilus_ scoured the Sea

of Oman, at various speeds and at various depths. It seemed to go at

random, as if hesitating as to which road it should follow, but we

never passed the Tropic of Cancer.

In quitting this sea we sighted Muscat for an instant, one of the most

important towns of the country of Oman. I admired its strange aspect,

surrounded by black rocks upon which its white houses and forts stood

in relief. I saw the rounded domes of its mosques, the elegant points

of its minarets, its fresh and verdant terraces. But it was only a

vision! The _Nautilus_ soon sank under the waves of that part of the

sea.

We passed along the Arabian coast of Mahrah and Hadramaut, for a

distance of six miles, its undulating line of mountains being

occasionally relieved by some ancient ruin. The 5th of February we at

last entered the Gulf of Aden, a perfect funnel introduced into the

neck of Bab-el-mandeb, through which the Indian waters entered the Red

Sea.

The 6th of February, the _Nautilus_ floated in sight of Aden, perched

upon a promontory which a narrow isthmus joins to the mainland, a kind

of inaccessible Gibraltar, the fortifications of which were rebuilt by

the English after taking possession in 1839. I caught a glimpse of the

octagon minarets of this town, which was at one time the richest

commercial magazine on the coast.

I certainly thought that Captain Nemo, arrived at this point, would

back out again; but I was mistaken, for he did no such thing, much to

my surprise.

The next day, the 7th of February, we entered the Straits of

Bab-el-mandeb, the name of which, in the Arab tongue, means The Gate of

Tears.

To twenty miles in breadth, it is only thirty-two in length. And for

the _Nautilus_, starting at full speed, the crossing was scarcely the

work of an hour. But I saw nothing, not even the Island of Perim, with

which the British Government has fortified the position of Aden. There

were too many English or French steamers of the line of Suez to Bombay,

Calcutta to Melbourne, and from Bourbon to the Mauritius, furrowing

this narrow passage, for the _Nautilus_ to venture to show itself. So

it remained prudently below. At last about noon, we were in the waters

of the Red Sea.

I would not even seek to understand the caprice which had decided

Captain Nemo upon entering the gulf. But I quite approved of the

_Nautilus_ entering it. Its speed was lessened: sometimes it kept on

the surface, sometimes it dived to avoid a vessel, and thus I was able

to observe the upper and lower parts of this curious sea.

The 8th of February, from the first dawn of day, Mocha came in sight,

now a ruined town, whose walls would fall at a gunshot, yet which

shelters here and there some verdant date-trees; once an important

city, containing six public markets, and twenty-six mosques, and whose

walls, defended by fourteen forts, formed a girdle of two miles in

circumference.

The _Nautilus_ then approached the African shore, where the depth of

the sea was greater. There, between two waters clear as crystal,

through the open panels we were allowed to contemplate the beautiful

bushes of brilliant coral and large blocks of rock clothed with a

splendid fur of green algæ and fuci. What an indescribable spectacle,

and what variety of sites and landscapes along these sandbanks and

volcanic islands which bound the Libyan coast! But where these shrubs

appeared in all their beauty was on the eastern coast, which the

_Nautilus_ soon gained. It was on the coast of Tehama, for there not

only did this display of zoophytes flourish beneath the level of the

sea, but they also formed picturesque interlacings which unfolded

themselves about sixty feet above the surface, more capricious but less

highly coloured than those whose freshness was kept up by the vital

power of the waters.

What charming hours I passed thus at the window of the saloon! What new

specimens of submarine flora and fauna did I admire under the

brightness of our electric lantern!

The 9th of February the _Nautilus_ floated in the broadest part of the

Red Sea, which is comprised between Souakin, on the west coast, and

Komfidah, on the east coast, with a diameter of ninety miles.

That day at noon, after the bearings were taken, Captain Nemo mounted

the platform, where I happened to be, and I was determined not to let

him go down again without at least pressing him regarding his ulterior

projects. As soon as he saw me he approached and graciously offered me

a cigar.

“Well, sir, does this Red Sea please you? Have you sufficiently

observed the wonders it covers, its fishes, its zoophytes, its

parterres of sponges, and its forests of coral? Did you catch a glimpse

of the towns on its borders?”

“Yes, Captain Nemo,” I replied; “and the _Nautilus_ is wonderfully

fitted for such a study. Ah! it is an intelligent boat!”

“Yes, sir, intelligent and invulnerable. It fears neither the terrible

tempests of the Red Sea, nor its currents, nor its sandbanks.”

“Certainly,” said I, “this sea is quoted as one of the worst, and in

the time of the ancients, if I am not mistaken, its reputation was

detestable.”

“Detestable, M. Aronnax. The Greek and Latin historians do not speak

favourably of it, and Strabo says it is very dangerous during the

Etesian winds and in the rainy season. The Arabian Edrisi portrays it

under the name of the Gulf of Colzoum, and relates that vessels

perished there in great numbers on the sandbanks and that no one would

risk sailing in the night. It is, he pretends, a sea subject to fearful

hurricanes, strewn with inhospitable islands, and ‘which offers nothing

good either on its surface or in its depths.’”

“One may see,” I replied, “that these historians never sailed on board

the _Nautilus_.”

“Just so,” replied the Captain, smiling; “and in that respect moderns

are not more advanced than the ancients. It required many ages to find

out the mechanical power of steam. Who knows if, in another hundred

years, we may not see a second _Nautilus?_ Progress is slow, M.

Aronnax.”

“It is true,” I answered; “your boat is at least a century before its

time, perhaps an era. What a misfortune that the secret of such an

invention should die with its inventor!”

Captain Nemo did not reply. After some minutes’ silence he continued:

“You were speaking of the opinions of ancient historians upon the

dangerous navigation of the Red Sea.”

“It is true,” said I; “but were not their fears exaggerated?”

“Yes and no, M. Aronnax,” replied Captain Nemo, who seemed to know the

Red Sea by heart. “That which is no longer dangerous for a modern

vessel, well rigged, strongly built, and master of its own course,

thanks to obedient steam, offered all sorts of perils to the ships of

the ancients. Picture to yourself those first navigators venturing in

ships made of planks sewn with the cords of the palmtree, saturated

with the grease of the seadog, and covered with powdered resin! They

had not even instruments wherewith to take their bearings, and they

went by guess amongst currents of which they scarcely knew anything.

Under such conditions shipwrecks were, and must have been, numerous.

But in our time, steamers running between Suez and the South Seas have

nothing more to fear from the fury of this gulf, in spite of contrary

trade-winds. The captain and passengers do not prepare for their

departure by offering propitiatory sacrifices; and, on their return,

they no longer go ornamented with wreaths and gilt fillets to thank the

gods in the neighbouring temple.”

“I agree with you,” said I; “and steam seems to have killed all

gratitude in the hearts of sailors. But, Captain, since you seem to

have especially studied this sea, can you tell me the origin of its

name?”

“There exist several explanations on the subject, M. Aronnax. Would you

like to know the opinion of a chronicler of the fourteenth century?”

“Willingly.”

“This fanciful writer pretends that its name was given to it after the

passage of the Israelites, when Pharaoh perished in the waves which

closed at the voice of Moses.”

“A poet’s explanation, Captain Nemo,” I replied; “but I cannot content

myself with that. I ask you for your personal opinion.”

“Here it is, M. Aronnax. According to my idea, we must see in this

appellation of the Red Sea a translation of the Hebrew word ‘Edom’; and

if the ancients gave it that name, it was on account of the particular

colour of its waters.”

“But up to this time I have seen nothing but transparent waves and

without any particular colour.”

“Very likely; but as we advance to the bottom of the gulf, you will see

this singular appearance. I remember seeing the Bay of Tor entirely

red, like a sea of blood.”

“And you attribute this colour to the presence of a microscopic

seaweed?”

“Yes.”

“So, Captain Nemo, it is not the first time you have overrun the Red

Sea on board the _Nautilus?_”

“No, sir.”

“As you spoke a while ago of the passage of the Israelites and of the

catastrophe to the Egyptians, I will ask whether you have met with the

traces under the water of this great historical fact?”

“No, sir; and for a good reason.”

“What is it?”

“It is that the spot where Moses and his people passed is now so

blocked up with sand that the camels can barely bathe their legs there.

You can well understand that there would not be water enough for my

_Nautilus_.”

“And the spot?” I asked.

“The spot is situated a little above the Isthmus of Suez, in the arm

which formerly made a deep estuary, when the Red Sea extended to the

Salt Lakes. Now, whether this passage were miraculous or not, the

Israelites, nevertheless, crossed there to reach the Promised Land, and

Pharaoh’s army perished precisely on that spot; and I think that

excavations made in the middle of the sand would bring to light a large

number of arms and instruments of Egyptian origin.”

“That is evident,” I replied; “and for the sake of archaeologists let

us hope that these excavations will be made sooner or later, when new

towns are established on the isthmus, after the construction of the

Suez Canal; a canal, however, very useless to a vessel like the

_Nautilus_.”

“Very likely; but useful to the whole world,” said Captain Nemo. “The

ancients well understood the utility of a communication between the Red

Sea and the Mediterranean for their commercial affairs: but they did

not think of digging a canal direct, and took the Nile as an

intermediate. Very probably the canal which united the Nile to the Red

Sea was begun by Sesostris, if we may believe tradition. One thing is

certain, that in the year 615 before Jesus Christ, Necos undertook the

works of an alimentary canal to the waters of the Nile across the plain

of Egypt, looking towards Arabia. It took four days to go up this

canal, and it was so wide that two triremes could go abreast. It was

carried on by Darius, the son of Hystaspes, and probably finished by

Ptolemy II. Strabo saw it navigated: but its decline from the point of

departure, near Bubastes, to the Red Sea was so slight that it was only

navigable for a few months in the year. This canal answered all

commercial purposes to the age of Antonius, when it was abandoned and

blocked up with sand. Restored by order of the Caliph Omar, it was

definitely destroyed in 761 or 762 by Caliph Al-Mansor, who wished to

prevent the arrival of provisions to Mohammed-ben-Abdallah, who had

revolted against him. During the expedition into Egypt, your General

Bonaparte discovered traces of the works in the Desert of Suez; and,

surprised by the tide, he nearly perished before regaining Hadjaroth,

at the very place where Moses had encamped three thousand years before

him.”

“Well, Captain, what the ancients dared not undertake, this junction

between the two seas, which will shorten the road from Cadiz to India,

M. Lesseps has succeeded in doing; and before long he will have changed

Africa into an immense island.”

“Yes, M. Aronnax; you have the right to be proud of your countryman.

Such a man brings more honour to a nation than great captains. He

began, like so many others, with disgust and rebuffs; but he has

triumphed, for he has the genius of will. And it is sad to think that a

work like that, which ought to have been an international work and

which would have sufficed to make a reign illustrious, should have

succeeded by the energy of one man. All honour to M. Lesseps!”

“Yes! honour to the great citizen,” I replied, surprised by the manner

in which Captain Nemo had just spoken.

“Unfortunately,” he continued, “I cannot take you through the Suez

Canal; but you will be able to see the long jetty of Port Said after

to-morrow, when we shall be in the Mediterranean.”

“The Mediterranean!” I exclaimed.

“Yes, sir; does that astonish you?”

“What astonishes me is to think that we shall be there the day after

to-morrow.”

“Indeed?”

“Yes, Captain, although by this time I ought to have accustomed myself

to be surprised at nothing since I have been on board your boat.”

“But the cause of this surprise?”

“Well! it is the fearful speed you will have to put on the _Nautilus_,

if the day after to-morrow she is to be in the Mediterranean, having

made the round of Africa, and doubled the Cape of Good Hope!”

“Who told you that she would make the round of Africa and double the

Cape of Good Hope, sir?”

“Well, unless the _Nautilus_ sails on dry land, and passes above the

isthmus——”

“Or beneath it, M. Aronnax.”

“Beneath it?”

“Certainly,” replied Captain Nemo quietly. “A long time ago Nature made

under this tongue of land what man has this day made on its surface.”

“What! such a passage exists?”

“Yes; a subterranean passage, which I have named the Ar