FIRST PART
CHAPTER 7: A Whale of Unknown Species
(continued)
As for any hope of being rescued by Commander Farragut, that had to be
renounced completely. We were being swept westward, and I estimate
that our comparatively moderate speed reached twelve miles per hour.
The propeller churned the waves with mathematical regularity,
sometimes emerging above the surface and throwing phosphorescent
spray to great heights.
Near four o'clock in the morning, the submersible picked up speed.
We could barely cope with this dizzying rush, and the waves battered
us at close range. Fortunately Ned's hands came across a big
mooring ring fastened to the topside of this sheet-iron back,
and we all held on for dear life.
Finally this long night was over. My imperfect memories won't let me
recall my every impression of it. A single detail comes back to me.
Several times, during various lulls of wind and sea, I thought I
heard indistinct sounds, a sort of elusive harmony produced by
distant musical chords. What was the secret behind this underwater
navigating, whose explanation the whole world had sought in vain?
What beings lived inside this strange boat? What mechanical force
allowed it to move about with such prodigious speed?
Daylight appeared. The morning mists surrounded us, but they
soon broke up. I was about to proceed with a careful examination
of the hull, whose topside formed a sort of horizontal platform,
when I felt it sinking little by little.
"Oh, damnation!" Ned Land shouted, stamping his foot on the resonant
sheet iron. "Open up there, you antisocial navigators!"
But it was difficult to make yourself heard above the deafening beats
of the propeller. Fortunately this submerging movement stopped.
From inside the boat, there suddenly came noises of iron fastenings
pushed roughly aside. One of the steel plates flew up, a man appeared,
gave a bizarre yell, and instantly disappeared.
A few moments later, eight strapping fellows appeared silently,
their faces like masks, and dragged us down into their fearsome machine.
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