Should Ifind down there a whole colony of exiles who,weary of the miseries of this earth,had sought and found independence in the deep ocean?
All these foolish and unreasonable ideas pursued me.And in this condition of mind,over-excited by the succession of wonders continually passing before my eyes,Ishould not have been surprised to meet at the bottom of the sea one of those submarine towns of which Captain Nemo dreamed.
Our road grew lighter and lighter.The white glimmer came in rays from the summit of a mountain about 800feet high.But what Isaw was simply a reflection,developed by the clearness of the waters.
The source of this inexplicable light was a fire on the opposite side of the mountain.
In the midst of this stony maze furrowing the bottom of the Atlantic,Captain Nemo advanced without hesitation.He knew this dreary road.
Doubtless he had often travelled over it,and could not lose himself.
Ifollowed him with unshaken confidence.He seemed to me like a genie of the sea;and,as he walked before me,Icould not help admiring his stature,which was outlined in black on the luminous horizon.
It was one in the morning when we arrived at the first slopes of the mountain;but to gain access to them we must venture through the difficult paths of a vast copse.
Yes;a copse of dead trees,without leaves,without sap,trees petrified by the action of the water and here and there overtopped by gigantic pines.It was like a coal-pit still standing,holding by the roots to the broken soil,and whose branches,like fine black paper cuttings,showed distinctly on the watery ceiling.
Picture to yourself a forest in the Hartz hanging on to the sides of the mountain,but a forest swallowed up.The paths were encumbered with seaweed and fucus,between which grovelled a whole world of crustacea.Iwent along,climbing the rocks,striding over extended trunks,breaking the sea bind-weed which hung from one tree to the other;and frightening the fishes,which flew from branch to branch.Pressing onward,Ifelt no fatigue.
Ifollowed my guide,who was never tired.What a spectacle!
How can Iexpress it?how paint the aspect of those woods and rocks in this medium--their under parts dark and wild,the upper coloured with red tints,by that light which the reflecting powers of the waters doubled?We climbed rocks which fell directly after with gigantic bounds and the low growling of an avalanche.
To right and left ran long,dark galleries,where sight was lost.
Here opened vast glades which the hand of man seemed to have worked;and Isometimes asked myself if some inhabitant of these submarine regions would not suddenly appear to me.
But Captain Nemo was still mounting.Icould not stay behind.
Ifollowed boldly.My stick gave me good help.Afalse step would have been dangerous on the narrow passes sloping down to the sides of the gulfs;but Iwalked with firm step,without feeling any giddiness.Now Ijumped a crevice,the depth of which would have made me hesitate had it been among the glaciers on the land;now Iventured on the unsteady trunk of a tree thrown across from one abyss to the other,without looking under my feet,having only eyes to admire the wild sites of this region.
There,monumental rocks,leaning on their regularly-cut bases,seemed to defy all laws of equilibrium.From between their stony knees trees sprang,like a jet under heavy pressure,and upheld others which upheld them.
Natural towers,large scarps,cut perpendicularly,like a "curtain,"inclined at an angle which the laws of gravitation could never have tolerated in terrestrial regions.
Two hours after quitting the Nautilus we had crossed the line of trees,and a hundred feet above our heads rose the top of the mountain,which cast a shadow on the brilliant irradiation of the opposite slope.
Some petrified shrubs ran fantastically here and there.Fishes got up under our feet like birds in the long grass.The massive rocks were rent with impenetrable fractures,deep grottos,and unfathomable holes,at the bottom of which formidable creatures might be heard moving.
My blood curdled when Isaw enormous antennae blocking my road,or some frightful claw closing with a noise in the shadow of some cavity.
Millions of luminous spots shone brightly in the midst of the darkness.
They were the eyes of giant crustacea crouched in their holes;giant lobsters setting themselves up like halberdiers,and moving their claws with the clicking sound of pincers;titanic crabs,pointed like a gun on its carriage;and frightful-looking poulps,interweaving their tentacles like a living nest of serpents.
We had now arrived on the first platform,where other surprises awaited me.
