We now found ourselves in the wide and desolate Antarctic Ocean, in a
latitude exceeding eighty-four degrees, in a frail canoe, and with no
provision but the three turtles. The long Polar winter, too, could not
be considered as far distant, and it became necessary that we should
deliberate well upon the course to be pursued. There were six or seven
islands in sight belonging to the same group, and distant from each
other about five or six leagues; but upon neither of these had we any
intention to venture. In coming from the northward in the Jane Guy we
had been gradually leaving behind us the severest regions of ice--this,
however little it may be in accordance with the generally-received
notions respecting the Antarctic, was a fact experience would not
permit us to deny. To attempt, therefore, getting back, would be
folly--especially at so late a period of the season. Only one course
seemed to be left open for hope. We resolved to steer boldly to the
southward, where there was at least a probability of discovering other
lands, and more than a probability of finding a still milder climate.
So far we had found the Antarctic, like the Arctic Ocean, peculiarly
free from violent storms or immoderately rough water; but our canoe
was, at best, of frail structure, although large, and we set busily to
work with a view of rendering her as safe as the limited means in our
possession would admit. The body of the boat was of no better material
than bark--the bark of a tree unknown. The ribs were of a tough osier,
well adapted to the purpose for which it was used. We had fifty feet
room from stem to stern, from four to six in breadth, and in depth
throughout four feet and a half--the boats thus differing vastly in
shape from those of any other inhabitants of the Southern Ocean with
whom civilized nations are acquainted. We never did believe them the
workmanship of the ignorant islanders who owned them; and some days
after this period discovered, by questioning our captive, that they
were in fact made by the natives of a group to the southwest of the
country where we found them, having fallen accidentally into the hands
of our barbarians. What we could do for the security of our boat was
very little indeed. Several wide rents were discovered near both ends,
and these we contrived to patch up with pieces of woollen jacket. With
the help of the superfluous paddles, of which there were a great many,
we erected a kind of framework about the bow, so as to break the force
of any seas which might threaten to fill us in that quarter. We also
set up two paddle-blades for masts, placing them opposite each other,
one by each gunwale, thus saving the necessity of a yard. To these
masts we attached a sail made of our shirts--doing this with some
difficulty, as here we could get no assistance from our prisoner
whatever, although he had been willing enough to labour in all the
other operations. The sight of the linen seemed to affect him in a very
singular manner. He could not be prevailed upon to touch it or go near
it, shuddering when we attempted to force him, and shrieking out
_Tekeli-li!_
Having completed our arrangements in regard to the security of the
canoe, we now set sail to the south southeast for the present, with the
view of weathering the most southerly of the group in sight. This being
done, we turned the bow full to the southward. The weather could by no
means be considered disagreeable. We had a prevailing and very gentle
wind from the northward, a smooth sea, and continual daylight. No ice
whatever was to be seen; _nor did I ever see one particle of this after
leaving the parallel of Bennet's Islet_. Indeed, the temperature of the
water was here far too warm for its existence in any quantity. Having
killed the largest of our tortoises, and obtained from him not only
food, but a copious supply of water, we continued on our course,
without any incident of moment, for perhaps seven or eight days, during
which period we must have proceeded a vast distance to the southward,
as the wind blew constantly with us, and a very strong current set
continually in the direction we were pursuing.
_March 1._[7] Many unusual phenomena now indicated that we were
entering upon a region of novelty and wonder. A high range of light
gray vapour appeared constantly in the southern horizon, flaring up
occasionally in lofty streaks, now darting from east to west, now from
west to east, and again presenting a level and uniform summit--in
short, having all the wild variations of the Aurora Borealis. The
average height of this vapour, as apparent from our station, was about
twenty-five degrees. The temperature of the sea seemed to be increasing
momentarily, and there was a very perceptible alteration in its colour.
[Footnote 7: For obvious reasons I cannot pretend to strict accuracy in
these dates. They are given principally with a view to perspicuity of
narration, and as set down in my pencil memoranda.]
_March 2._ To-day, by repeated questioning of our captive, we came to
the knowledge of many particulars in regard to the island of the
massacre, its inhabitants, and customs--but with these how can I _now_
detain the reader? I may say, however, that we learned there were eight
islands in the group--that they were governed by a common king, named
_Tsalemon_ or _Psalemoun_, who resided in one of the smallest of the
islands--that the black skins forming the dress of the warriors came
from an animal of huge size to be found only in a valley near the court
of the king--that the inhabitants of the group fabricated no other
boats than the flat-bottomed rafts; the four canoes being all of the
kind in their possession, and these having been obtained, by mere
accident, from some large island to the southwest--that his own name
was Nu-Nu--that he had no knowledge of Bennet's Islet--and that the
appellation of the island we had left was _Tsalal_. The commencement of
the words _Tsalemon_ and _Tsalal_ was given with a prolonged hissing
sound, which we found it impossible to imitate, even after repeated
endeavours, and which was precisely the same with the note of the black
bittern we had eaten upon the summit of the hill.
_March 3._ The heat of the water was now truly remarkable, and its
colour was undergoing a rapid change, being no longer transparent, but
of a milky consistency and hue. In our immediate vicinity it was
usually smooth, never so rough as to endanger the canoe--but we were
frequently surprised at perceiving, to our right and left, at different
distances, sudden and extensive agitations of the surface--these, we at
length noticed, were always preceded by wild flickerings in the region
of vapour to the southward.
_March 4._ To-day, with the view of widening our sail, the breeze from
the northward dying away perceptibly, I took from my coat-pocket a
white handkerchief. Nu-Nu was seated at my elbow, and the linen
accidentally flaring in his face, he became violently affected with
convulsions. These were succeeded by drowsiness and stupor, and low
murmurings of Tekeli-li! Tekeli-li!
_March 5._ The wind had entirely ceased, but it was evident that we
were still hurrying on to the southward, under the influence of a
powerful current. And now, indeed, it would seem reasonable that we
should experience some alarm at the turn events were taking--but we
felt none. The countenance of Peters indicated nothing of this nature,
although it wore at times an expression I could not fathom. The Polar
winter appeared to be coming on--but coming without its terrors. I felt
a _numbness_ of body and mind--a dreaminess of sensation--but this was
all.
_March 6._ The gray vapour had now arisen many more degrees above the
horizon, and was gradually losing its grayness of tint. The heat of the
water was extreme, even unpleasant to the touch, and its milky hue was
more evident than ever. To-day a violent agitation of the water
occurred very close to the canoe. It was attended, as usual, with a
wild flaring up of the vapour at its summit, and a momentary division
at its base. A fine white powder, resembling ashes--but certainly not
such--fell over the canoe and over a large surface of the water, as the
flickering died away among the vapour and the commotion subsided in the
sea. Nu-Nu now threw himself on his face in the bottom of the boat, and
no persuasions could induce him to arise.
_March 7._ This day we questioned Nu-Nu concerning the motives of his
countrymen in destroying our companions; but he appeared to be too
utterly overcome by terror to afford us any rational reply. He still
obstinately lay in the bottom of the boat; and, upon our reiterating
the questions as to the motive, made use only of idiotic
gesticulations, such as raising with his forefinger the upper lip, and
displaying the teeth which lay beneath it. These were black. We had
never before seen the teeth of an inhabitant of Tsalal.
_March 8._ To-day there floated by us one of the white animals whose
appearance upon the beach at Tsalal had occasioned so wild a commotion
among the savages. I would have picked it up, but there came over me a
sudden listlessness, and I forbore. The heat of the water still
increased, and the hand could no longer be endured within it. Peters
spoke little, and I knew not what to think of his apathy. Nu-Nu
breathed, and no more.
_March 9._ The white ashy material fell now continually around us, and
in vast quantities. The range of vapour to the southward had arisen
prodigiously in the horizon, and began to assume more distinctness of
form. I can liken it to nothing but a limitless cataract, rolling
silently into the sea from some immense and far-distant rampart in the
heaven. The gigantic curtain ranged along the whole extent of the
southern horizon. It emitted no sound.
_March 21._ A sullen darkness now hovered above us--but from out the
milky depths of the ocean a luminous glare arose, and stole up along
the bulwarks of the boat. We were nearly overwhelmed by the white ashy
shower which settled upon us and upon the canoe, but melted into the
water as it fell. The summit of the cataract was utterly lost in the
dimness and the distance. Yet we were evidently approaching it with a
hideous velocity. At intervals there were visible in it wide, yawning,
but momentary rents, and from out these rents, within which was a chaos
of flitting and indistinct images, there came rushing and mighty, but
soundless winds, tearing up the enkindled ocean in their course.
_March 22._ The darkness had materially increased, relieved only by the
glare of the water thrown back from the white curtain before us. Many
gigantic and pallidly white birds flew continuously now from beyond the
veil, and their scream was the eternal _Tekeli-li!_ as they retreated
from our vision. Hereupon Nu-Nu stirred in the bottom of the boat; but,
upon touching him, we found his spirit departed. And now we rushed into
the embraces of the cataract, where a chasm threw itself open to
receive us. But there arose in our pathway a shrouded human figure,
very far larger in its proportions than any dweller among men. And the
hue of the skin of the figure was of the perfect whiteness of the snow.
NOTE.
The circumstances connected with the late sudden and distressing death
of Mr. Pym are already well known to the public through the medium of
the daily press. It is feared that the few remaining chapters which
were to have completed his narrative, and which were retained by him,
while the above were in type, for the purpose of revision, have been
irrecoverably lost through the accident by which he perished himself.
This, however, may prove not to be the case, and the papers, if
ultimately found, will be given to the public.
No means have been left untried to remedy the deficiency. The gentleman
whose name is mentioned in the preface, and who, from the statement
there made, might be supposed able to fill the vacuum, has declined the
task--this for satisfactory reasons connected with the general
inaccuracy of the details afforded him, and his disbelief in the entire
truth of the latter portions of the narration. Peters, from whom some
information might be expected, is still alive, and a resident of
Illinois, but cannot be met with at present. He may hereafter be found,
and will, no doubt, afford material for a conclusion of Mr. Pym's
account.
The loss of the two or three final chapters (for there were but two or
three) is the more deeply to be regretted, as, it cannot be doubted,
they contained matter relative to the Pole itself, or at least to
regions in its very near proximity; and as, too, the statements of the
author in relation to these regions may shortly be verified or
contradicted by means of the governmental expedition now preparing for
the Southern Ocean.
On one point in the Narrative some remarks may be well offered; and it
would afford the writer of this appendix much pleasure if what he may
here observe should have a tendency to throw credit, in any degree,
upon the very singular pages now published. We allude to the chasms
found in the island of Tsalal, and to the whole of the figures in the
latter portion of Chapter XXIII.
Mr. Pym has given the figures of the chasms without comment, and speaks
decidedly of the _indentures_ found at the extremity of the most
easterly of these chasms as having but a fanciful resemblance to
alphabetical characters, and, in short, as being positively _not such_.
This assertion is made in a manner so simple, and sustained by a
species of demonstration so conclusive (viz., the fitting of the
projections of the fragments found among the dust into the indentures
upon the wall), that we are forced to believe the writer in earnest;
and no reasonable reader should suppose otherwise. But as the facts in
relation to _all_ the figures are most singular (especially when taken
in connexion with statements made in the body of the narrative), it may
be as well to say a word or two concerning them all--this, too, the
more especially as the facts in question have, beyond doubt, escaped
the attention of Mr. Poe.
Figure 1, then, figure 2, figure 3, and figure 5, when conjoined with
one another in the precise order which the chasms themselves presented,
and when deprived of the small lateral branches or arches (which, it
will be remembered, served only as means of communication between the
main chambers, and were of totally distinct character), constitute an
Ethiopian verbal root--the root [Illustration] "To be shady"--whence
all the inflections of shadow or darkness.
In regard to the "left or most northwardly" of the indentures in figure
4, it is more than probable that the opinion of Peters was correct, and
that the hieroglyphical appearance was really the work of art, and
intended as the representation of a human form. The delineation is
before the reader, and he may, or may not, perceive the resemblance
suggested; but the rest of the indentures afford strong confirmation of
Peters's idea. The upper range is evidently the Arabic verbal root
[Illustration] "To be white," whence all the inflections of brilliancy
and whiteness. The lower range is not so immediately perspicuous. The
characters are somewhat broken and disjointed; nevertheless, it cannot
be doubted that, in their perfect state, they formed the full Egyptian
word [Illustration] "The region of the south." It should be observed
that these interpretations confirm the opinion of Peters in regard to
the "most northwardly" of the figures. The arm is outstretched towards
the south.
Conclusions such as these open a wide field for speculation and
exciting conjecture. They should be regarded, perhaps, in connexion
with some of the most faintly-detailed incidents of the narrative;
although in no visible manner is this chain of connexion complete.
Tekeli-li! was the cry of the affrighted natives of Tsalal upon
discovering the carcass of the _white_ animal picked up at sea. This
also was the shuddering exclamation of the captive Tsalalian upon
encountering the _white_ materials in possession of Mr. Pym. This also
was the shriek of the swift-flying, _white_, and gigantic birds which
issued from the vapoury _white_ curtain of the South. Nothing _white_
was to be found at Tsalal, and nothing otherwise in the subsequent
voyage to the region beyond. It is not impossible that "Tsalal," the
appellation of the island of the chasms, may be found, upon minute
philological scrutiny, to betray either some alliance with the chasms
themselves, or some reference to the Ethiopian characters so
mysteriously written in their windings.
_"I have graven it within the hills, and my vengeance upon the dust
within the rock."_
THE END.
[Transcriber's Note: The last two chapters, Chapters XXIV and XXV were
named, respectively, XXIII and XXIV in the original publication, with,
therefore, two chapters XXIII. This has been corrected in this
transcription.]