Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea

Jules Verne was born in 1828. He studied law at Paris, but

turned to writing almost immediately after completing his

education, and brought out his first comedy in 1850. This was

followed by several comic operas. However, he is chiefly known

by his "scientific romances," of which the first, "Five Weeks

in a Balloon," appeared in 1863. "Twenty Thousand Leagues

Under the Sea" is perhaps the best example of Verne's tales of

the marvels of invention, and we have to remember that when it

was written, in 1873, nobody had yet succeeded in making a

boat to travel under water. For that reason it was, in a way,

a prophetic book, shadowing forth the wonderful possibilities

of human ingenuity in exploring the ocean's unknown depths.

Jules Verne died March 24, 1905.

_I.--I Join a Strange Expedition_

In the year 1866 the whole seafaring world of Europe and America was

greatly disturbed by an ocean mystery which baffled the wits of

scientists and sailors alike. Several vessels, in widely different

regions of the seas, had met a long and rapidly moving object, much

larger than a whale, and capable of almost incredible speed. It had also

been seen at night, and was then phosphorescent, moving under the water

in a glow of light.

There was no doubt whatever as to the reality of this unknown terror of

the deep, for several vessels had been struck by it, and particularly

the Cunard steamer Scotia, homeward bound for Liverpool. It had pierced

a large triangular hole through the steel plates of the Scotia's hull,

and would certainly have sunk the vessel had it not been divided into

seven water-tight compartments, any one of which could stand injury

without danger to the vessel. It was three hundred miles off Cape Clear

that the Scotia encountered this mysterious monster. Arriving after some

days' delay at Liverpool, the vessel was put into dock, when the result

of the blow from the unknown was thoroughly investigated. So many

vessels having recently been lost from unknown causes, the narrow escape

of the Scotia directed fresh attention to this ocean mystery, and both

in Europe and America there was a strong public agitation for an

expedition to be sent out, prepared to do battle with, and if possible

destroy, this narwhal of monstrous growth, as many scientists believed

it to be.

Now I, Pierre Arronax, assistant professor in the Paris Museum of

Natural History, was at this time in America, where I had been engaged

on a scientific expedition into the disagreeable region of Nebraska. I

had arrived at New York in company of my faithful attendant, Conseil,

and was devoting my attention to classifying the numerous specimens I

had gathered for the Paris Museum. As I had already some reputation in

the scientific world from my book on "The Mysteries of the Great

Submarine Grounds," a number of people did me the honour of consulting

me concerning the one subject then exercising the minds of all

interested in ocean travel.

An expedition was also being fitted out by the United States government,

the fastest frigate of the navy, the Abraham Lincoln, under command of

Captain Farragut, being in active preparation, with the object of

hunting out this wandering monster which had last been seen three weeks

before by a San Francisco steamer in the North Pacific Ocean. I was

invited to join this expedition as a representative of France, and

immediately decided to do so. The faithful Conseil said he would go with

me wherever I went, and thus it came about that my sturdy Flemish

companion, who had accompanied me on scientific expeditions for ten

years was with me again on the eventful cruise which began when we

sailed from Brooklyn for the Pacific and the unknown.

The crew of the frigate and the various scientists on board were all

eagerness to meet the great cetacean, or sea-unicorn. My own opinion was

that it would be found to be a narwhal of monstrous growth, for these

creatures are armed with a kind of ivory sword, or tusk, as hard as

steel, and sometimes nearly seven feet long by fifteen inches in

diameter at the base. Supposing one to exist ten times as large as any

that had ever been captured, with its tusk proportionately powerful, it

was conceivable that such a gigantic creature, moving at a great rate,

could do all the damage that had been reported.

There was among our crew one Ned Land, a gigantic Canadian of forty, who

was considered to be the prince of harpooners. Many a whale had received

its deathblow from him, and he was eager to flesh his harpoon in this

redoubtable cetacean which had terrified the marine world.

Week after week passed without any sign that our quest would be

successful. Indeed, after nearly four months had gone, and we had

explored the whole of the Japanese and Chinese coasts, the captain

reached the point of deciding to return, when one night the voice of Ned

Land was heard calling:

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

At this cry the entire crew rushed towards the harpooner--captain,

officers, masters, sailors, and cabin-boys; even the engineers left

their engines, and the stokers their furnaces. The frigate was now

moving only by her own momentum, for the engines had been stopped.

My heart beat violently. I was sure the harpooner's eyes had not

deceived him. Soon we could all see, about two cables' length away, a

strange and luminous object, lying some fathoms below the surface, just

as described in many of the reports. One of the officers suggested that

it was merely an enormous mass of phosphorous particles, but I replied

with conviction that the light was electric. And even as I spoke the

strange thing began to move towards us!

The captain immediately reversed engines and put on full speed, but the

luminous monster gained on us and played round the frigate with

frightful rapidity. Its light would go out suddenly and reappear again

on the other side of the vessel. It was clearly too great a risk to

attack the thing in the dark, and by midnight it disappeared, dying out

like a huge glow-worm. It appeared again, about five miles to the

windward, at two in the morning, coming up to the surface as if to

breathe, and it seemed as though the air rushed into its huge lungs like

steam in the vast cylinders of a 2,000 horse-power engine.

"Hum!" said I. "A whale with the strength of a cavalry regiment would be

a pretty whale!"

_II.--The Attack and After_

Everything was in readiness to attack with the coming of the dawn, and

Ned Land was calmly sharpening his great harpoon, but by six in the

morning the thing had again disappeared, and a thick sea-fog made it

impossible to observe its further movements. At eight o'clock, however,

the mist had begun to clear, and then, as suddenly as on the night

before, Ned Land's voice was heard calling: "The thing on the

port-quarter!"

There it was, surely enough, a mile and a half away, now a large black

body showing above the waves, and leaving a track of dazzling white as

its great tail beat the water into foam.

Moving rapidly, it approached within twenty feet of the frigate. Ned

stood ready at the bow to hurl his harpoon, and the monster was now

shining again with that strange light which dazzled our eyes. All at

once he threw the harpoon. It struck on a hard body.

Instantly the light went out and two enormous water-spouts fell on our

deck. A frightful shock followed, and the next moment I found myself

struggling in the sea. Though a good swimmer, I kept afloat with some

difficulty, and great was my joy when I heard the voice of the faithful

Conseil, who had jumped in after me. Much stronger than myself, he

helped me to remove some of my clothes, and thus we kept afloat until I

fainted.

When I regained consciousness, I found myself on the top of what seemed

to be a floating island, and there was Ned Land as well as Conseil. We

were on the back of the mysterious monster, and it was made of metal!

Presently it began to move, and we were afraid it might go below the

surface.

Indeed, it seemed to be on the point of submerging, when Land hammered

loudly on the metal plates, and in a moment an opening was made and the

three of us were drawn inside by eight masked men. A door banged on us,

and for half an hour we lay in utter darkness. Then a brilliant electric

light flooded the cabin, a room of about twenty feet by ten, and two men

entered. One was tall, pale, and dark-eyed, but magnificently

proportioned.

Though we spoke to them in French, German, English, and Latin, they did

not seem to understand, while their own speech was unintelligible to us.

But they gave us clothes and food. After eating the food, which was

strange but delicious, we all lay down and slept the sleep of sheer

exhaustion.

Next day the tall man, whom I afterwards came to know as Captain Nemo,

master of his marvellous submarine boat, came to me, and, speaking in

French, said:

"I have been considering your case, and did not choose to speak till I

had weighed it well. You have pursued me to destroy me. I have done with

society for reasons of my own. I have decided. I give you choice of life

or death. If you grant me a passive obedience, and submit to my

consigning you to your cabin for some hours or days, as occasion calls,

you are safe. You, Monsieur Arronax, have least cause to complain, for

you have written on the life of the sea--I have your book in my library

here--and will benefit most when I show you its marvels. I love it. It

does not belong to despots."

Clearly we could do nothing but submit, and afterwards Captain Nemo

showed me his wondrous craft.

_III.--Our Life on the Nautilus_

It was indeed a thing of marvels; for, besides the dining-room, it

contained a large library of twelve thousand volumes, a drawing-room

measuring thirty feet by eighteen, and fifteen high. The walls of this

apartment were adorned with masterpieces of the great painters, and

beautiful marbles and bronzes. A large piano-organ stood in one corner,

and there were glass cases containing the rarest marine curiosities

which a naturalist could wish to see. A collection of enormous pearls in

a cabinet must have been worth millions, and Captain Nemo told me he had

rifled every sea to find them.

The room assigned to me was fitted up with every luxury, yet the

captain's own apartment was as simply furnished as a monastic cell, but

in it were contained all the ingenious instruments that controlled the

movements of the Nautilus, as his submarine was named. The electricity

was manufactured by a process of extracting chloride of sodium from the

sea-water, but the fresh air necessary for the life of the crew could

only be obtained by rising to the surface. The engine-room was

sixty-five feet long, and in it was the machinery for producing

electricity as well as that for applying the power to the propeller.

The Nautilus, Captain Nemo explained, was capable of a speed of fifty

miles an hour, and could be made to sink or rise with precision by

flooding or emptying a reservoir. In a box, raised somewhat above the

hull and fitted with glass ten inches thick, the steersman had his

place, and a powerful electric reflector behind him illumined the sea

for half a mile in front.

The submarine also carried a small torpedo-like boat, fitted in a groove

along the top, so that it could be entered from the Nautilus by opening

a panel, and, after that was closed, the boat could be detached from the

submarine, and would then bob upwards to the surface like a cork. The

importance of this and its bearing on my story will appear in due time.

It was on a desert island that Captain Nemo had carried out the building

of the Nautilus, and from many different places he had secured the

various parts of the hull and machinery, in order to maintain secrecy.

Deeply interested as I was in every detail of this extraordinary vessel,

and excited beyond measure at the wonders which awaited me in exploring

the world beneath the waves, I had still the feeling of a prisoner who

dared scarcely hope that liberty might some day be obtained. But when

the metal plates which covered the windows of the saloon were rolled

back as we sailed under the water, and on each hand I could see a

thronging army of many-coloured aquatic creatures swimming around us,

attracted by our light, I was in an ecstasy of wonder and delight.

Then days would pass without Captain Nemo putting in an appearance, and

none of the crew were ever to be seen. But the Nautilus kept on its

journey, which, I learned, took us to the Torres Strait, the Papuan

coast, through the Red Sea, through a subterranean strait, under the

Isthmus of Suez, to the island of Santorin, the Cretan Archipelago, to

the South Pole, on whose sterile wastes Captain Nemo reared his black

flag with a white "N" upon it, and through the Gulf Stream.

Of the wonders of the deep, those amazing and beautiful specimens of

unknown life that passed before my vision on this strange journey, never

before seen by the eye of any naturalist, I cannot here enter into

particulars. But it must not be supposed, prisoners though we were, that

we never emerged from the interior of the Nautilus.

One of my first surprises, indeed, was to be invited by Captain Nemo to

accompany him on a hunting expedition in the marine forest that grew

about the base of the little island of Crespo, in the North Pacific

Ocean. We were told to make a hearty breakfast, as the jaunt would be a

long one. This we did, for we had soon become accustomed to the strange

food, every item of which was produced by the sea.

For our submarine excursion we were furnished with diving dresses of

seamless india-rubber, fitted on the shoulders with a reservoir of

stored air, its tubes opening into the great copper helmet. We even had

powerful air-guns and electric bullets, which proved weapons of deadly

precision. When inside our diving dresses, we could not move our feet on

account of the enormous leaden soles, so that we had to be pushed into a

compartment at the bottom of the vessel, and the iron doors secured

behind us. Water was then pumped in, and we could feel it rising around

us, until the compartment was full, when an outer door opened and we

stepped on to the floor of the sea.

For some considerable distance we walked along sands of the most perfect

smoothness, and then had to make our way over slimy rocks and

treacherous masses of seaweed, before we reached the fairy-like forest

under the sea, where all the branches of the marvellous growths ascended

perpendicularly.

It was indeed a rare experience for me, who had written "The Mysteries

of the Great Submarine Grounds," thus to see, at first hand, the life

which I had only been able to speculate on before. We captured many rare

specimens, and shot a fine sea-otter, the only known quadruped that

inhabits the rocky depths of the Pacific. It was five feet long, and its

skin was worth a hundred pounds.

_IV.--Captain Nemo and the Avenger_

So constantly was I enchanted with the wonders of our journey that day

succeeded day without my taking note of them; but Captain Nemo, for all

his kindness, still remained as mysterious as the Sphinx. One day he

became violently agitated after looking through the glass at a point

indicated by his lieutenant, and I and my companions were immediately

imprisoned in darkness, as we had been when first taken into the

Nautilus. When I awoke next morning the captain took me to see a wounded

Englishman whose head had been shattered, and on my stating that the man

could not live for two hours, the dark eyes of the captain seemed to

fill with tears. I thought that night I heard sounds of a funeral hymn,

and next day I was taken to a submarine forest of coral, where they

buried the man. This was really a little cemetery beneath the sea, as I

gathered from the coral cross which had been erected there. Ned Land,

unlike me, was soon satisfied with what he had seen of the submarine

world, and had now but one thought of escape. We were sailing up the

eastern coast of South America, and by May 17 were some five hundred

miles from Heart's Content. There I saw, at a depth of more than fifteen

hundred fathoms, the great electric cable lying at the bottom of the

ocean. The restlessness of poor Ned Land was at its height when he had a

glimpse of the American shore; but Captain Nemo bent his course towards

Ireland, and then southward, passing within sight of Land's End on May

30.

All the next day the vessel seemed to be making a series of circular

movements, in some endeavour to locate a particular spot, and the

captain was gloomier than I had ever seen him, having no word for me.

The following day, which was beautifully clear, we could make out, some

eight miles to the eastward, a large steam vessel flying no flag.

Suddenly, after using his sextant, the captain exclaimed: "It is here!"

Presently the Nautilus sank to the bottom of the sea. When at rest the

lights were put out and the sliding panels opened. We could now see on

our starboard the remains of a sunken vessel, so encrusted with shells

that it must have lain there a great many years. As I stood there

wondering what might be Captain Nemo's reason for his manoeuvres, he

came to my side and, speaking slowly, said:

"That was the Marseillais, launched in 1772. It carried seventy-four

guns, and fought gallantly against the Preston, was in action again at

the siege of Granada, and in Chesapeake Bay. Then in 1794 the French

Republic changed the vessel's name, and it joined a squadron at Brest to

escort a cargo of corn coming from America. The squadron fell in with an

English man-o'-war, and seventy-two years ago to this very day, on this

very spot, after fighting heroically, until its masts were shot away,

its hold full of water, and a third of its crew disabled, this vessel

preferred sinking, with its 356 sailors, to surrendering. Nailing its

colours to the mast, it sank beneath the waves to the cry of 'Long live

the Republic!'"

"The Avenger!" I exclaimed.

"Yes, the Avenger. A good name!" said the captain, with a strange

seriousness, as he crossed his arms.

I was deeply impressed with his whole bearing while he recalled these

facts. It was clearly no common spite against his fellow-men that had

shut up Captain Nemo and his crew in the Nautilus.

Already we were ascending, fast leaving the grave of the old Avenger.

When we had reached the surface we could see the other vessel steaming

towards us. A low boom greeted the Nautilus as its upper part showed

above the water. Ned Land, aflame once more with hope of escape, made

out the vessel to be a two-decker ram, but she showed no flag at her

mizzen. It seemed for a moment there might just be some chance of escape

for us three prisoners, and Ned declared he would jump into the sea if

the man-o'-war came within a mile of us. Just then another gun boomed

out. She was firing at us.

It flashed across my mind at that moment that as those on board the

Abraham Lincoln, having once seen the effect of Ned Land's harpoon when

it struck the Nautilus, could not but have concluded their enemy was no

monster of the deep--though indeed a monster of man's contriving--the

warships of all nations would now be on the look-out for the Nautilus,

and we on board it could scarcely hope for mercy.

The shot rattled about us as we stood on the opened upper deck of the

submarine, and Ned Land, in a mad moment, waved his handkerchief to the

enemy, only to be instantly felled by the iron hand of Captain Nemo.

Then, frightfully pale, the captain turned towards the approaching

man-o'-war, and, in a voice terrible to hear, cried: "Ah, ship of an

accursed nation, you know who I am! I do not need to see your colours to

know you. Look, and see mine!"

So saying, he unfurled his black flag, and then sternly bade us go

below, just as a shell struck the Nautilus, and rebounded into the sea.

"You have seen the attack," he said calmly. "I shall sink yonder ship,

but not here--no, not here. Her ruins shall not mingle with those of the

Avenger."

_V.--The Doom of the Oppressor_

Having no choice but to obey, we all went below, and the propeller of

the Nautilus was soon lashing the water into creamy foam, taking us

beyond the range of fire. I held my peace for a time, but, after some

deliberation, ventured to go up in the hope of dissuading Captain Nemo

from more destruction. His vessel was now coursing round the other ship

like a wild beast manoeuvring to attack its prey, and I had scarcely

spoken when the captain turned on me fiercely, commanding silence.

"Here I am the law and the judge," he said, almost in a shriek. "There

is the oppressor. Through him I have lost all that I have loved,

cherished, and venerated--country, wife, children, father, and mother. I

saw all perish! All that I hate is represented by that ship! Not another

word!"

In the face of such fierce hatred it was useless to try persuasion. I

and my companions resolved to attempt escape when the Nautilus made the

attack. At six the next morning, being the second day of June, the two

vessels were less than a mile and a half apart. Suddenly, as the three

of us were preparing to rush on deck and jump overboard, the upper panel

closed sharply. Our chance was gone!

Next moment the noise of the water rushing into the reservoir indicated

that we were sinking, and in a moment more the machinery throbbed at its

greatest speed as the Nautilus shot forward under the sea. Then the

whole submarine trembled; there was a shock, and then a rending jar

above. The terror of the seas had cut its way through the other vessel

like a needle through sailcloth! Horror-stricken, I rushed into the

saloon and found Captain Nemo, mute and gloomy, standing by the port

panel, which had instantly been slid back, watching with a terrible

satisfaction the injured vessel sinking with all its crew beneath the

waves. The Nautilus sank with it, so that its terrible captain might

lose nothing of the fascinating horror presented by the spectacle of his

victims descending to their ocean grave. When we had seen all, he went

to his room, and, following him, I saw on the wall the portraits of a

woman, still young, and two little children. He looked at them, and as

he stretched his arms toward them the fierce expression of hate died

away from his face. He sank down on his knees, and burst into deep sobs.

I felt a strange horror for this man, who, though he might have suffered

terribly, had no right to exact so terrible a vengeance.

The Nautilus was now making its top speed, and the instruments indicated

a northerly direction. Whither was it flying? That night we covered two

hundred leagues of the Atlantic. Onward we kept our course, the speed

never lessening, and for fifteen or twenty days, during which we

prisoners never saw the captain or his lieutenant, this headlong race

continued.

_VI.--Our Escape from the Nautilus_

Poor Ned Land was in despair, and Conseil and I had to watch him

carefully lest he might kill himself. One morning he said to me:

"We are going to fly to-night. I have taken the reckoning, and make out

that twenty miles or so to the east is land. I have got a little food

and water, and Conseil and I will be near the opening into the small

boat at ten. Meet us there. If we do not escape, they sha'n't take me

alive."

"I will go with you," I said. "At least we can die together."

Wishing to verify the direction of the Nautilus, I went to the saloon.

We were going N.N.E. with frightful speed at a depth of twenty-five

fathoms. I took a last look at all the natural marvels and art treasures

collected in this strange museum, a collection doomed to perish in the

depths of the ocean with the man who had made it. Back in my own room I

donned my sea garments, and placed all my notes carefully about my

clothing. My heart was beating so loudly that I feared my agitation

might betray me if I met Captain Nemo. I decided it was best to lie down

on my bed in the hope of calming my nerves, and thus to pass the time

till the hour determined upon for our attempt. Ten o'clock was on the

point of striking, when I heard Captain Nemo playing a weird and sad

melody, and I was struck with the sudden terror of having to pass

through the saloon while he was there. I must make the attempt, and

softly I crept to the door of the saloon and softly opened it. Captain

Nemo was still playing his subdued melody; but the room was in darkness,

and slowly I made my way across it to the library door. I had almost

opened this when a sigh from him made me pause.

He had risen from the organ, and, as some rays of light were now

admitted from the library, I could see him coming toward me with folded

arms, gliding like a ghost rather than walking. His breast heaved with

sobs, and I heard him murmur these words, the last of his I heard:

"Enough! O God, enough!" Was it remorse escaping thus from the

conscience of this mysterious being?

Had I not seen it begin with the tears in his eyes at the death of the

Englishman whom he had buried in the coral cemetery, and who was

doubtless a victim of one of his acts of destruction?

Now rendered desperate, I rushed into the library, up the central

staircase, and so gained the opening to the boat where my companions

were awaiting me. Quickly the panel through which we went was shut and

bolted by means of a wrench which Ned Land had secured. The opening of

the boat was also quickly fastened after we had got inside, and the

harpooner had begun to undo from the inside the screws that still

fastened the boat to the Nautilus. Suddenly a great noise was heard

within the submarine. We thought we had been discovered, and were

prepared to die defending ourselves. Ned Land stopped his work for the

moment, and the noise grew louder. It was a terrible word, twenty times

repeated, that we heard. "The Maelstrom! The Maelstrom!" was what they

were crying. Was it to this, then, that the Nautilus had been driven, by

accident or design, with such headlong speed? We heard a roaring noise,

and could feel ourselves whirled in spiral circles. The steel muscles of

the submarine were cracking, and at times in the awful churning of the

whirlpool it seemed to stand on end. "We must hold on," cried Land, "and

we may be saved if we can stick to the Nautilus."

His anxiety now was to make fast the screws that bound the boat to the

submarine, but he had scarcely finished speaking when, with a great

crash, the bolts gave way, and the boat shot up, released from the

larger vessel, into the midst of the whirlpool. My head struck on its

iron framework and with the violent shock I lost all consciousness.

How we escaped from that hideous gulf, where even whales of mighty

strength have been tossed and battered to death, none of us will ever

know! But I was in a fisherman's hut on the Lofoden Isles when I

regained consciousness. My two companions were by my side, safe and

sound, and we all shook hands heartily. There we had to wait for the

steamer that runs twice a month to Cape North, and in the interval I

occupied myself revising this record of our incredible expedition in an

element previously considered inaccessible to man, but to which progress

will one day open up a way.

I may be believed or not, but I know that I have made a journey of

twenty thousand leagues under the sea.

Does the Nautilus still exist? Is Captain Nemo still alive? Was that

awful night in the Maelstrom his last, or is he still pursuing a

terrible vengeance? Will the confessions of his life, which he told me

he had written, and which the last survivor of his fellow-exiles was to

cast into the sea in an air-tight case, ever be found?

This I know, that only two men could have a right to answer the question

asked in the Ecclesiastes three thousand years ago: "That which is far

off and exceeding deep, who can find it out?" These two men are Captain

Nemo and I.

* * * * *