Chapter Chapter 36 · THE ICEBERG

CEBERG

The _Nautilus_ was steadily pursuing its southerly course, following

the fiftieth meridian with considerable speed. Did he wish to reach the

pole? I did not think so, for every attempt to reach that point had

hitherto failed. Again, the season was far advanced, for in the

Antarctic regions the 13th of March corresponds with the 13th of

September of northern regions, which begin at the equinoctial season.

On the 14th of March I saw floating ice in latitude 55°, merely pale

bits of debris from twenty to twenty-five feet long, forming banks over

which the sea curled. The _Nautilus_ remained on the surface of the

ocean. Ned Land, who had fished in the Arctic Seas, was familiar with

its icebergs; but Conseil and I admired them for the first time. In the

atmosphere towards the southern horizon stretched a white dazzling

band. English whalers have given it the name of “ice blink.” However

thick the clouds may be, it is always visible, and announces the

presence of an ice pack or bank. Accordingly, larger blocks soon

appeared, whose brilliancy changed with the caprices of the fog. Some

of these masses showed green veins, as if long undulating lines had

been traced with sulphate of copper; others resembled enormous

amethysts with the light shining through them. Some reflected the light

of day upon a thousand crystal facets. Others shaded with vivid

calcareous reflections resembled a perfect town of marble. The more we

neared the south the more these floating islands increased both in

number and importance.

At 60° lat. every pass had disappeared. But, seeking carefully, Captain

Nemo soon found a narrow opening, through which he boldly slipped,

knowing, however, that it would close behind him. Thus, guided by this

clever hand, the _Nautilus_ passed through all the ice with a precision

which quite charmed Conseil; icebergs or mountains, ice-fields or

smooth plains, seeming to have no limits, drift-ice or floating

ice-packs, plains broken up, called palchs when they are circular, and

streams when they are made up of long strips. The temperature was very

low; the thermometer exposed to the air marked 2 deg. or 3° below zero,

but we were warmly clad with fur, at the expense of the sea-bear and

seal. The interior of the _Nautilus_, warmed regularly by its electric

apparatus, defied the most intense cold. Besides, it would only have

been necessary to go some yards beneath the waves to find a more

bearable temperature. Two months earlier we should have had perpetual

daylight in these latitudes; but already we had had three or four hours

of night, and by and by there would be six months of darkness in these

circumpolar regions. On the 15th of March we were in the latitude of

New Shetland and South Orkney. The Captain told me that formerly

numerous tribes of seals inhabited them; but that English and American

whalers, in their rage for destruction, massacred both old and young;

thus, where there was once life and animation, they had left silence

and death.

About eight o’clock on the morning of the 16th of March the _Nautilus_,

following the fifty-fifth meridian, cut the Antarctic polar circle. Ice

surrounded us on all sides, and closed the horizon. But Captain Nemo

went from one opening to another, still going higher. I cannot express

my astonishment at the beauties of these new regions. The ice took most

surprising forms. Here the grouping formed an oriental town, with

innumerable mosques and minarets; there a fallen city thrown to the

earth, as it were, by some convulsion of nature. The whole aspect was

constantly changed by the oblique rays of the sun, or lost in the

greyish fog amidst hurricanes of snow. Detonations and falls were heard

on all sides, great overthrows of icebergs, which altered the whole

landscape like a diorama. Often seeing no exit, I thought we were

definitely prisoners; but, instinct guiding him at the slightest

indication, Captain Nemo would discover a new pass. He was never

mistaken when he saw the thin threads of bluish water trickling along

the ice-fields; and I had no doubt that he had already ventured into

the midst of these Antarctic seas before. On the 16th of March,

however, the ice-fields absolutely blocked our road. It was not the

iceberg itself, as yet, but vast fields cemented by the cold. But this

obstacle could not stop Captain Nemo: he hurled himself against it with

frightful violence. The _Nautilus_ entered the brittle mass like a

wedge, and split it with frightful crackings. It was the battering ram

of the ancients hurled by infinite strength. The ice, thrown high in

the air, fell like hail around us. By its own power of impulsion our

apparatus made a canal for itself; some times carried away by its own

impetus, it lodged on the ice-field, crushing it with its weight, and

sometimes buried beneath it, dividing it by a simple pitching movement,

producing large rents in it. Violent gales assailed us at this time,

accompanied by thick fogs, through which, from one end of the platform

to the other, we could see nothing. The wind blew sharply from all

parts of the compass, and the snow lay in such hard heaps that we had

to break it with blows of a pickaxe. The temperature was always at 5

deg. below zero; every outward part of the _Nautilus_ was covered with

ice. A rigged vessel would have been entangled in the blocked up

gorges. A vessel without sails, with electricity for its motive power,

and wanting no coal, could alone brave such high latitudes. At length,

on the 18th of March, after many useless assaults, the _Nautilus_ was

positively blocked. It was no longer either streams, packs, or

ice-fields, but an interminable and immovable barrier, formed by

mountains soldered together.

“An iceberg!” said the Canadian to me.

I knew that to Ned Land, as well as to all other navigators who had

preceded us, this was an inevitable obstacle. The sun appearing for an

instant at noon, Captain Nemo took an observation as near as possible,

which gave our situation at 51° 30′ long. and 67° 39′ of S. lat. We had

advanced one degree more in this Antarctic region. Of the liquid

surface of the sea there was no longer a glimpse. Under the spur of the

_Nautilus_ lay stretched a vast plain, entangled with confused blocks.

Here and there sharp points and slender needles rising to a height of

200 feet; further on a steep shore, hewn as it were with an axe and

clothed with greyish tints; huge mirrors, reflecting a few rays of

sunshine, half drowned in the fog. And over this desolate face of

nature a stern silence reigned, scarcely broken by the flapping of the

wings of petrels and puffins. Everything was frozen—even the noise. The

_Nautilus_ was then obliged to stop in its adventurous course amid

these fields of ice. In spite of our efforts, in spite of the powerful

means employed to break up the ice, the _Nautilus_ remained immovable.

Generally, when we can proceed no further, we have return still open to

us; but here return was as impossible as advance, for every pass had

closed behind us; and for the few moments when we were stationary, we

were likely to be entirely blocked, which did indeed happen about two

o’clock in the afternoon, the fresh ice forming around its sides with

astonishing rapidity. I was obliged to admit that Captain Nemo was more

than imprudent. I was on the platform at that moment. The Captain had

been observing our situation for some time past, when he said to me:

“Well, sir, what do you think of this?”

“I think that we are caught, Captain.”

[Illustration] The _Nautilus_ was blocked up

“So, M. Aronnax, you really think that the _Nautilus_ cannot disengage

itself?”

“With difficulty, Captain; for the season is already too far advanced

for you to reckon on the breaking of the ice.”

“Ah! sir,” said Captain Nemo, in an ironical tone, “you will always be

the same. You see nothing but difficulties and obstacles. I affirm that

not only can the _Nautilus_ disengage itself, but also that it can go

further still.”

“Further to the South?” I asked, looking at the Captain.

“Yes, sir; it shall go to the pole.”

“To the pole!” I exclaimed, unable to repress a gesture of incredulity.

“Yes,” replied the Captain, coldly, “to the Antarctic pole—to that

unknown point from whence springs every meridian of the globe. You know

whether I can do as I please with the _Nautilus!_”

Yes, I knew that. I knew that this man was bold, even to rashness. But

to conquer those obstacles which bristled round the So