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Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea
Chapter 33. THE SUBMARINE COAL-MINES
The next day, the 20th of February, I woke up very late.
The tiredness from the previous night had kept me asleep until eleven o'clock.
I dressed quickly and hurried to find out the Nautilus's direction.
The instruments showed it was still heading south, at a speed of twenty miles an hour and a depth of fifty fathoms.
The types of fish here weren't very different from the ones we'd already seen.
There were giant rays, five yards long, with great muscular strength that let them jump above the waves.
There were many kinds of sharks, including one fifteen feet long with sharp triangular teeth.
Its body was so transparent that it was almost invisible in the water.
Among the bony fish, Conseil noticed some about three yards long.
They had a piercing sword on their upper jaw.
There were also bright-colored creatures known in Aristotle's time as sea-dragons.
They're dangerous to catch because of the spikes on their backs.
Around four o'clock, the soil, which was usually thick mud mixed with petrified wood, slowly changed.
It became more stony and seemed covered with conglomerate and pieces of basalt, with some lava scattered around.
I thought a mountainous area was replacing the long plains.
After a few turns by the Nautilus, I saw the southern horizon blocked by a high wall that seemed to close off all exits.
Its top clearly went above the ocean's level.
It must have been a continent, or at least an island, one of the Canaries or the Cape Verde Islands.
The bearings hadn't been taken yet, maybe on purpose, so I didn't know our exact position.
In any case, that wall seemed to mark the limits of Atlantis, of which we'd only crossed the smallest part.
I'd have stayed much longer at the window, admiring the beauties of sea and sky, but the panels closed.
At that moment, the Nautilus reached the side of this high, vertical wall.
I couldn't guess what it would do.
I went back to my room, the ship stopped moving.
I lay down, fully intending to wake up after a few hours of sleep.
But it was eight o'clock the next day when I entered the saloon.
I looked at the manometer, it told me the Nautilus was floating on the ocean's surface.
I also heard steps on the platform.
I went to the panel, it was open.
But instead of broad daylight, as I'd expected, I was surrounded by deep darkness.
Where were we? Was I mistaken? Was it still night? No, not a star was shining, and night doesn't have that complete darkness.
The Nautilus was floating near a mountain.
I didn't know what to think when a voice near me said,
"Is that you, Professor?"
"Ah! Captain," I answered, "where are we?"
"Underground, sir."
"Underground!" I exclaimed.
"And the Nautilus is still floating?"
"It always floats."
"But I don't understand."
"Wait a few minutes. Our lantern will be lit, and if you like bright places, you'll be satisfied."
I stood on the platform and waited.
The darkness was so complete that I couldn't even see Captain Nemo.
But looking up at the zenith, exactly above my head, I seemed to catch a weak gleam, a kind of twilight filling a circular hole.
At that moment, the lantern was lit, and its brightness erased the faint light.
I closed my dazzled eyes for a moment, then looked again.
The Nautilus was still, floating near a mountain that formed a sort of dock.
The lake supporting it was a lake trapped by a circle of walls.
It measured two miles across and six miles around.
The manometer showed its level equaled the outside level, since there must have been a connection between the lake and the sea.
The high walls, leaning forward at their base, rose into a vaulted roof shaped like an enormous upside-down funnel.
The height was about five or six hundred yards.
At the top was a circular opening, through which I'd caught the slight gleam of light, it was clearly daylight.
"Where are we?" I asked.
"In the very heart of an extinct volcano."
"The sea flooded its inside after some great earthquake."
"While you were sleeping, Professor, the Nautilus entered this lagoon through a natural canal that opens about ten yards beneath the ocean's surface."
"This is its harbor of refuge."
"It's safe, comfortable, and mysterious, sheltered from all winds."
"Show me, if you can, on the coasts of any of your continents or islands, a road that gives such perfect shelter from all storms."
"Certainly," I replied.
"You're safe here, Captain Nemo. Who could reach you in the heart of a volcano? But didn't I see an opening at its top?"
"Yes. Its crater, once filled with lava, vapor, and flames, now gives us the life-giving air we breathe."
"But what's this volcanic mountain?"
"It belongs to one of the many islands scattered across this sea."
"To ships, it's just a sandbank."
"To us, it's an enormous cave."
"Chance led me to discover it, and chance served me well."
"But what's the use of this refuge, Captain? The Nautilus doesn't need a port."
"No, sir."
"It needs sodium to feed the elements, coal to obtain the sodium, and a coal mine to supply that coal."
"Here, the sea covers entire forests buried during geological periods, they have since turned into coal and are an endless mine for me."
"Your men work as miners here, then, Captain?"
"Exactly, these mines stretch under the waves like the mines of Newcastle."
"Here, in their diving suits, with pickaxes and shovels, my men take out the coal."
"When I burn this fuel to make sodium, the smoke escapes from the mountain's crater and makes the mountain look like an active volcano".
"And will we see your companions at work?"
"No, not this time at least," said Captain Nemo.
"I'm in a hurry to continue our underwater trip around the world, so I'll just take from the sodium reserve I already have."
"Loading takes one day, we'll then continue our voyage, so if you want to explore the cave and walk the lagoon, do so today, Mr. Aronnax".
I thanked the Captain and went to find my companions, who hadn't left their cabin yet.
I invited them to follow me without saying where we were, they climbed onto the platform.
Conseil, who was never surprised by anything, seemed to think it was perfectly natural to wake up under a mountain after falling asleep under the waves.
But Ned Land only thought about whether the cave had an exit.
After breakfast, around ten o'clock, we went down onto the mountain.
"Here we're, on land again," said Conseil.
"I don't call this land," said the Canadian.
"And besides, we're not on it, but under it."
Between the mountain walls and the lake's waters lay a sandy shore.
At its widest point, it measured five hundred feet.
On this ground, we could easily walk around the lake.
But the base of the high walls was stony, with volcanic blocks and enormous pumice stones lying in picturesque heaps.
All these loose pieces, covered with enamel and polished by underground fires, shone brightly in the light of our electric lantern.
The mica dust from the shore rose under our feet like a cloud of sparks.
The bottom rose noticeably, and we soon reached long winding slopes that took us higher.
But we had to walk carefully among these rocks, which had no cement holding them together.
Our feet slipped on the glassy crystal, feldspar, and quartz.
The volcanic nature of this huge cave was clear everywhere, and I pointed it out to my companions.
"Imagine what this crater must have been like when it was full of boiling lava," I said.
"The hot liquid rose to the mountain's opening, like melted metal on top of a hot plate."
"I can picture it perfectly," said Conseil.
"But sir, will you tell me why the Great Architect stopped the work? And how did the furnace become the quiet waters of the lake?"
"Most likely, Conseil, because an earthquake under the ocean created that opening, which served as a passage for the Nautilus."
"Then the Atlantic waters rushed into the mountain's interior."
"There must have been a terrible struggle between the two elements, a struggle that ended with Neptune's victory."
"But many ages have passed since then, and the underwater volcano is now a peaceful cave."
"Very well," replied Ned Land.
"I accept that explanation, sir. But for our own good, I'm sorry that opening wasn't made above the sea's level."
"But friend Ned," said Conseil, "if the passage hadn't been under the sea, the Nautilus couldn't have gone through it."
We kept climbing, the steps became steeper and narrower.
Deep holes cut through them here and there, and we had to cross them.
We had to go around sloping masses.
We slid on our knees and crawled along.
But Conseil's skill and the Canadian's strength overcame all obstacles.
At a height of about thirty-one feet, the ground's nature changed without becoming easier.
The conglomerate and trachyte were replaced by black basalt.
The first was spread in layers full of bubbles.
The second formed regular prisms, placed like a row of columns supporting the huge vault.
It was an amazing example of natural architecture.
Between the basalt blocks, long streams of lava wound their way.
They had cooled long ago and were covered with bituminous rays.
In some places, large carpets of sulfur were spread out.
A stronger light shone through the upper crater, casting a weak glow over these volcanic hollows, forever buried in the heart of this dead mountain.
But our climb was soon stopped at a height of about two hundred and fifty feet by impossible obstacles.
A complete vaulted arch hung over us, and our climb turned into a circular walk.
At the last turn, plant life began to struggle with the minerals.
Some bushes, and even some trees, grew from the cracks in the walls.
I recognized some spurges, with their burning sap.
There were heliotropes, which couldn't live up to their name.
Their flower clusters hung sadly, their color and smell half gone.
Here and there, some chrysanthemums grew shyly at the foot of an aloe with long, sickly leaves.
But between the lava streams, I saw some small violets that still had a slight smell.
I admit I smelled them with delight.
Perfume is the soul of a flower, and sea flowers have no soul.
We'd reached the foot of some strong dragon trees.
They'd pushed aside the rocks with their strong roots, then Ned Land exclaimed,
"Ah! Sir, a beehive! A beehive!"
"A beehive!" I replied, with a gesture of disbelief.
"Yes, a beehive," repeated the Canadian.
"And bees are buzzing around it."
I went closer and had to believe my own eyes.
There, in a hole bored into one of the dragon trees, were thousands of these clever insects.
They're very common in all the Canaries, and their honey is highly valued.
Naturally, the Canadian wanted to collect the honey, and I couldn't really stop him.
He lit some dry leaves mixed with sulfur with a spark from his flint and started to smoke out the bees.
The buzzing slowly stopped, and the hive finally gave us several pounds of the sweetest honey.
Ned Land filled his bag with it.
"When I mix this honey with breadfruit paste," he said, "I'll be able to offer you a delicious cake."
"Honestly," said Conseil, "it'll be gingerbread."
"Never mind the gingerbread," I said.
"Let's continue our interesting walk."
At every turn of the path we were following, the lake appeared in all its length and width.
The lantern lit up its whole peaceful surface, which had no ripples or waves, the Nautilus stayed perfectly still.
On the platform and on the mountain, the ship's crew worked like black shadows, clearly cut out against the bright air.
We were now going around the highest ridge of the first rock layers that held up the roof.
I then saw that bees weren't the only animals inside this volcano.
Birds of prey flew here and there in the shadows or fled from their nests on top of the rocks.
There were sparrow hawks with white chests and kestrels.
Down the slopes, several fine, fat bustards ran on their long legs.
I'll let anyone imagine how much the Canadian wanted this tasty game, and whether he didn't regret not having a gun.
But he did his best to replace lead with stones.
After several failed attempts, he managed to wound a magnificent bird.
To say he risked his life twenty times before reaching it's only the truth.
But he managed so well that the bird joined the honey cakes in his bag.
We now had to go down toward the shore, because the ridge was impossible to cross.
Above us, the crater seemed to open like the mouth of a well.
From this place, we could see the sky clearly.
Clouds, pushed by the west wind, left their misty remains even on the mountain's top.
This was certain proof that they weren't very high, because the volcano didn't rise more than eight hundred feet above the ocean's level.
Half an hour after the Canadian's last success, we'd reached the inner shore.
Here, the plant life was represented by large carpets of sea crystal, a small plant good for pickling.
It's also called pierce-stone and sea-fennel, Conseil collected some bundles of it.
Thousands of crustaceans, lobsters, crabs, spider crabs, chameleon shrimps, and many shells, rockfish, and limpets.
Three-quarters of an hour later, we'd finished our circular walk and were back on board.
The crew had just finished loading the sodium, and the Nautilus could have left right then.
But Captain Nemo gave no order, Did he want to wait until night and leave the underwater passage secretly? Maybe so.
Whatever the reason, the next day, the Nautilus left its port and steered clear of all land, a few yards beneath the Atlantic waves.