Wonders of the Deep

On the 13th of August we awoke early. We were now to begin to adopt a mode of travelling both more expeditious and less fatiguing than hitherto.

On August 13, we woke early. We were now to begin traveling in a way that was faster and less tiring than before.

A mast was made of two poles spliced together, a yard was made of a third, a blanket borrowed from our coverings made a tolerable sail. There was no want of cordage for the rigging, and everything was well and firmly made.

We made a mast by joining two poles together and a yard from a third pole. A blanket from our coverings made an adequate sail. There was plenty of rope for the rigging, and everything was made well and securely.

The provisions, the baggage, the instruments, the guns, and a good quantity of fresh water from the rocks around, all found their proper places on board; and at six the Professor gave the signal to embark. Hans had fitted up a rudder to steer his vessel. He took the tiller, and unmoored; the sail was set, and we were soon afloat. At the moment of leaving the harbour, my uncle, who was tenaciously fond of naming his new discoveries, wanted to give it a name, and proposed mine amongst others.

The provisions, baggage, instruments, guns, and plenty of fresh water from the surrounding rocks were all put in place on board. At six, the Professor gave the signal to embark. Hans had fitted the vessel with a rudder. He took the tiller and untied the vessel. The sail was raised, and we were soon afloat. As we left the harbor, my uncle wanted to name it. He was determined to name his new discoveries, and he suggested my name among others.

"Port Gräuben let it be then."

"Port Gräuben it is, then."

And so the cherished remembrance of my Virlandaise became associated with our adventurous expedition.

And so my cherished memory of my Virlandaise became linked to our adventurous expedition.

The wind was from the north-west. We went with it at a high rate of speed. The dense atmosphere acted with great force and impelled us swiftly on.

The wind blew from the northwest, and we traveled with it at high speed. The dense air pushed us forward with great force.

In an hour my uncle had been able to estimate our progress. At this rate, he said, we shall make thirty leagues in twenty-four hours, and we shall soon come in sight of the opposite shore.

After an hour, my uncle could estimate how far we had traveled. At this rate, he said, we would travel thirty leagues in twenty-four hours. We would soon see the opposite shore.

I made no answer, but went and sat forward. The northern shore was already beginning to dip under the horizon. The eastern and western strands spread wide as if to bid us farewell. Before our eyes lay far and wide a vast sea; shadows of great clouds swept heavily over its silver-grey surface; the glistening bluish rays of electric light, here and there reflected by the dancing drops of spray, shot out little sheaves of light from the track we left in our rear. Soon we entirely lost sight of land; no object was left for the eye to judge by, and but for the frothy track of the raft, I might have thought we were standing still.

I said nothing and went to sit at the front of the raft. The northern shore was already beginning to sink below the horizon. The eastern and western shores spread out wide, as if to bid us farewell. A vast sea stretched before us in every direction. The shadows of great clouds swept heavily over its silver-gray surface. Shimmering blue rays of electric light reflected here and there off dancing drops of spray. They sent out little bursts of light along the wake behind us. Soon we lost sight of land altogether. Nothing remained to help us judge our movement. If not for the raft's foamy wake, I might have thought we were standing still.

About twelve, immense shoals of seaweeds came in sight. I was aware of the great powers of vegetation that characterise these plants, which grow at a depth of twelve thousand feet, reproduce themselves under a pressure of four hundred atmospheres, and sometimes form barriers strong enough to impede the course of a ship. But never, I think, were such seaweeds as those which we saw floating in immense waving lines upon the sea of Liedenbrock.

Around noon, vast masses of seaweed came into view. I knew how vigorously these plants grow. They grow at depths of 12,000 feet and reproduce under pressure of 400 atmospheres. They sometimes form barriers strong enough to slow a ship. But I don't think there were ever seaweeds like those we saw on the sea of Liedenbrock. They floated in immense, waving lines across the water.

Our raft skirted the whole length of the fuci, three or four thousand feet long, undulating like vast serpents beyond the reach of sight; I found some amusement in tracing these endless waves, always thinking I should come to the end of them, and for hours my patience was vying with my surprise.

Our raft sailed along the whole length of the seaweed. The strands were three or four thousand feet long, rippling like enormous serpents as far as I could see. I amused myself by following these endless waves, always thinking I would reach their end. For hours, my patience competed with my amazement.

What natural force could have produced such plants, and what must have been the appearance of the earth in the first ages of its formation, when, under the action of heat and moisture, the vegetable kingdom alone was developing on its surface?

What natural force could have produced such plants? What must the earth have looked like in the earliest stages of its formation? Back then, heat and moisture allowed only plants to grow on its surface.

Evening came, and, as on the previous day, I perceived no change in the luminous condition of the air. It was a constant condition, the permanency of which might be relied upon.

Evening came, and as on the previous day, I noticed no change in the light in the air. The light was constant, and I could rely on it to stay that way.

After supper I laid myself down at the foot of the mast, and fell asleep in the midst of fantastic reveries.

After supper, I lay down at the foot of the mast and fell asleep amid fantastic daydreams.

Hans, keeping fast by the helm, let the raft run on, which, after all, needed no steering, the wind blowing directly aft.

Hans held on to the helm and let the raft drift. It needed no steering, after all, because the wind was blowing straight from behind.

Since our departure from Port Gräuben, Professor Liedenbrock had entrusted the log to my care; I was to register every observation, make entries of interesting phenomena, the direction of the wind, the rate of sailing, the way we made—in a word, every particular of our singular voyage.

Since we left Port Gräuben, Professor Liedenbrock had put me in charge of the log. I was to record every observation, interesting phenomenon, the wind’s direction, our sailing speed, and the distance we traveled. In short, I was to record every detail of our unusual voyage.

I shall therefore reproduce here these daily notes, written, so to speak, as the course of events directed, in order to furnish an exact narrative of our passage.

I will therefore reproduce these daily notes here. They were written, so to speak, as events unfolded, to provide an exact account of our journey.

Friday, August 14.—Wind steady, N.W. The raft makes rapid way in a direct line. Coast thirty leagues to leeward. Nothing in sight before us. Intensity of light the same. Weather fine; that is to say, that the clouds are flying high, are light, and bathed in a white atmosphere resembling silver in a state of fusion. Therm. 89° Fahr.

Friday, August 14. The wind is steady from the northwest. The raft is moving quickly in a straight line. The coast is thirty leagues downwind. Nothing is visible ahead. The light is just as bright as before. The weather is fine. That is, the clouds are high and light, surrounded by a white atmosphere like molten silver. Temperature: 89°F.

At noon Hans prepared a hook at the end of a line. He baited it with a small piece of meat and flung it into the sea. For two hours nothing was caught. Are these waters, then, bare of inhabitants? No, there's a pull at the line. Hans draws it in and brings out a struggling fish.

At noon, Hans attached a hook to the end of a line. He baited it with a small piece of meat and threw it into the sea. For two hours, he caught nothing. Could these waters be empty of life? No, something is pulling on the line. Hans pulls it in and brings out a struggling fish.

"A sturgeon," I cried; "a small sturgeon."

"A sturgeon," I cried, "a small sturgeon."

The Professor eyes the creature attentively, and his opinion differs from mine.

The Professor studies the creature closely, and his opinion is different from mine.

The head of this fish was flat, but rounded in front, and the anterior part of its body was plated with bony, angular scales; it had no teeth, its pectoral fins were large, and of tail there was none. The animal belonged to the same order as the sturgeon, but differed from that fish in many essential particulars. After a short examination my uncle pronounced his opinion.

The fish’s head was flat but rounded at the front. The front of its body was covered with bony, angular scales. It had no teeth, its pectoral fins were large, and it had no tail. The animal belonged to the same order as the sturgeon, but differed from it in many important ways. After a brief examination, my uncle gave his opinion.

"This fish belongs to an extinct family, of which only fossil traces are found in the devonian formations."

"This fish belongs to an extinct family, known only from fossils found in Devonian rock formations."

"What!" I cried. "Have we taken alive an inhabitant of the seas of primitive ages?"

"What!" I cried. "Have we captured a living creature from the ancient seas?"

"Yes; and you will observe that these fossil fishes have no identity with any living species. To have in one's possession a living specimen is a happy event for a naturalist."

"Yes, and you will notice that these fossil fish don't match any living species. Having a living specimen is a happy event for a naturalist."

"But to what family does it belong?"

"But what family does it belong to?"

"It is of the order of ganoids, of the family of the cephalaspidae; and a species of pterichthys. But this one displays a peculiarity confined to all fishes that inhabit subterranean waters. It is blind, and not only blind, but actually has no eyes at all."

"It belongs to the order of ganoids, the family of cephalaspidae, and the species pterichthys. But this fish has a trait shared by all fish that live in underground waters. It is blind. In fact, it has no eyes at all."

I looked: nothing could be more certain. But supposing it might be a solitary case, we baited afresh, and threw out our line. Surely this ocean is well peopled with fish, for in another couple of hours we took a large quantity of pterichthydes, as well as of others belonging to the extinct family of the dipterides, but of which my uncle could not tell the species; none had organs of sight. This unhoped-for catch recruited our stock of provisions.

I looked. There could be no doubt. But thinking it might be an isolated case, we baited our line again and cast it out. Surely this ocean is full of fish. In another two hours, we caught a large number of pterichthydes and other fish from the extinct family of the dipterides. My uncle could not identify their species. None of them had eyes. This unexpected catch replenished our food supply.

Thus it is evident that this sea contains none but species known to us in their fossil state, in which fishes as well as reptiles are the less perfectly and completely organised the farther back their date of creation.

Clearly, this sea contains only species we know from fossils. Among both fish and reptiles, the earlier they were created, the less perfectly and completely organized they are.

Perhaps we may yet meet with some of those saurians which science has reconstructed out of a bit of bone or cartilage. I took up the telescope and scanned the whole horizon, and found it everywhere a desert sea. We are far away removed from the shores.

Perhaps we may yet encounter some of the ancient reptiles that scientists have reconstructed from a fragment of bone or cartilage. I picked up the telescope and scanned the entire horizon. Everywhere, I saw only an empty sea. We are far from shore.

I gaze upward in the air. Why should not some of the strange birds restored by the immortal Cuvier again flap their 'sail-broad vans' in this dense and heavy atmosphere? There are sufficient fish for their support. I survey the whole space that stretches overhead; it is as desert as the shore was.

I look up. Why shouldn’t some of the strange birds restored by the immortal Cuvier flap their 'sail-broad wings' again in this dense, heavy air? There are enough fish to feed them. I search the whole space overhead. It is as empty as the shore was.

Still my imagination carried me away amongst the wonderful speculations of palæontology. Though awake I fell into a dream. I thought I could see floating on the surface of the waters enormous chelonia, pre-adamite tortoises, resembling floating islands. Over the dimly lighted strand there trod the huge mammals of the first ages of the world, the leptotherium (slender beast), found in the caverns of Brazil; the merycotherium (ruminating beast), found in the 'drift' of iceclad Siberia. Farther on, the pachydermatous lophiodon (crested toothed), a gigantic tapir, hides behind the rocks to dispute its prey with the anoplotherium (unarmed beast), a strange creature, which seemed a compound of horse, rhinoceros, camel, and hippopotamus. The colossal mastodon (nipple-toothed) twists and untwists his trunk, and brays and pounds with his huge tusks the fragments of rock that cover the shore; whilst the megatherium (huge beast), buttressed upon his enormous hinder paws, grubs in the soil, awaking the sonorous echoes of the granite rocks with his tremendous roarings. Higher up, the protopitheca—the first monkey that appeared on the globe—is climbing up the steep ascents. Higher yet, the pterodactyle (wing-fingered) darts in irregular zigzags to and fro in the heavy air. In the uppermost regions of the air immense birds, more powerful than the cassowary, and larger than the ostrich, spread their vast breadth of wings and strike with their heads the granite vault that bounds the sky.

Still, my imagination carried me away into the wonderful possibilities of paleontology. Though awake, I fell into a dream. I imagined enormous chelonia, tortoises from before the time of Adam, floating on the water like islands. Huge mammals from the earliest ages of the world walked along the dimly lit shore. There was the leptotherium (slender beast), found in the caves of Brazil, and the merycotherium (ruminating beast), found in the 'drift' of ice-covered Siberia. Farther on, the thick-skinned lophiodon (crested toothed), a gigantic tapir, hid behind the rocks. It was ready to fight the anoplotherium (unarmed beast) for its prey. The anoplotherium was a strange creature that seemed to be a mixture of horse, rhinoceros, camel, and hippopotamus. The colossal mastodon (nipple-toothed) curled and uncurled its trunk. It brayed and pounded the rocks covering the shore with its huge tusks. Meanwhile, the megatherium (huge beast) dug in the soil, braced on its enormous hind paws. Its tremendous roars echoed through the granite rocks. Higher up, the protopitheca, the first monkey to appear on the globe, climbed the steep slopes. Higher still, the pterodactyle (wing-fingered) darted back and forth in irregular zigzags through the heavy air. In the highest reaches of the air, immense birds spread their vast wings. They were more powerful than the cassowary and larger than the ostrich. Their heads struck the granite vault that enclosed the sky.

All this fossil world rises to life again in my vivid imagination. I return to the scriptural periods or ages of the world, conventionally called 'days,' long before the appearance of man, when the unfinished world was as yet unfitted for his support. Then my dream backed even farther still into the ages before the creation of living beings. The mammals disappear, then the birds vanish, then the reptiles of the secondary period, and finally the fish, the crustaceans, molluscs, and articulated beings. Then the zoophytes of the transition period also return to nothing. I am the only living thing in the world: all life is concentrated in my beating heart alone. There are no more seasons; climates are no more; the heat of the globe continually increases and neutralises that of the sun. Vegetation becomes accelerated. I glide like a shade amongst arborescent ferns, treading with unsteady feet the coloured marls and the particoloured clays; I lean for support against the trunks of immense conifers; I lie in the shade of sphenophylla (wedge-leaved), asterophylla (star-leaved), and lycopods, a hundred feet high.

This whole fossil world comes alive again in my vivid imagination. I return to the biblical ages of the world, traditionally called 'days.' These were long before humans appeared, when the unfinished world could not yet support them. Then my dream takes me even further back, to the ages before living beings were created. The mammals disappear, then the birds, then the reptiles of the secondary period. Finally, the fish, crustaceans, molluscs, and jointed creatures vanish. Then the zoophytes of the transition period also return to nothing. I am the only living thing in the world. All life is concentrated in my beating heart alone. There are no more seasons or climates. The earth’s heat keeps increasing and cancels out the sun’s heat. Plants grow faster. I glide like a shadow among tree ferns, stepping unsteadily over colored marls and multicolored clays. I lean against the trunks of immense conifers for support. I lie in the shade of sphenophylla (wedge-leaved), asterophylla (star-leaved), and lycopods, all a hundred feet high.

Ages seem no more than days! I am passed, against my will, in retrograde order, through the long series of terrestrial changes. Plants disappear; granite rocks soften; intense heat converts solid bodies into thick fluids; the waters again cover the face of the earth; they boil, they rise in whirling eddies of steam; white and ghastly mists wrap round the shifting forms of the earth, which by imperceptible degrees dissolves into a gaseous mass, glowing fiery red and white, as large and as shining as the sun.

Ages seem like days! Against my will, I am carried backward through the long history of Earth's changes. Plants disappear. Granite rocks soften. Intense heat turns solid matter into thick liquids. Waters once again cover the face of the earth. They boil and rise in swirling clouds of steam. White, ghostly mists wrap around the earth as it changes shape. Almost too slowly to notice, the earth dissolves into a glowing mass of gas, fiery red and white, as large and bright as the sun.

And I myself am floating with wild caprice in the midst of this nebulous mass of fourteen hundred thousand times the volume of the earth into which it will one day be condensed, and carried forward amongst the planetary bodies. My body is no longer firm and terrestrial; it is resolved into its constituent atoms, subtilised, volatilised. Sublimed into imponderable vapour, I mingle and am lost in the endless floods of those vast globular volumes of vaporous mists, which roll upon their flaming orbits through infinite space.

And I float wildly through this cloudlike mass, which is 1,400,000 times the volume of the earth. One day, it will condense into the earth and be carried forward among the planets. My body is no longer solid and earthly. It has dissolved into its atoms, becoming fine and vaporous. I have risen into weightless vapor. I mingle with and am lost in the endless streams of those vast, round masses of mist. They roll along their flaming orbits through infinite space.

But is it not a dream? Whither is it carrying me? My feverish hand has vainly attempted to describe upon paper its strange and wonderful details. I have forgotten everything that surrounds me. The Professor, the guide, the raft—are all gone out of my ken. An illusion has laid hold upon me.

But is it a dream? Where is it taking me? My feverish hand has tried in vain to write down its strange and wonderful details. I have forgotten everything around me. The Professor, the guide, and the raft have all vanished from my awareness. An illusion has taken hold of me.

"What is the matter?" my uncle breaks in.

"What's the matter?" my uncle interrupts.

My staring eyes are fixed vacantly upon him.

I stare blankly at him.

"Take care, Axel, or you will fall overboard."

"Be careful, Axel, or you'll fall overboard."

At that moment I felt the sinewy hand of Hans seizing me vigorously. But for him, carried away by my dream, I should have thrown myself into the sea.

At that moment, I felt Hans grab me firmly with his strong hand. Without him, I would have been carried away by my dream and thrown myself into the sea.

"Is he mad?" cried the Professor.

"Is he crazy?" the Professor cried.

"What is it all about?" at last I cried, returning to myself.

"What is it all about?" I finally cried, coming to my senses.

"Do you feel ill?" my uncle asked.

"Do you feel sick?" my uncle asked.

"No; but I have had a strange hallucination; it is over now. Is all going on right?"

"No, but I had a strange hallucination. It's over now. Is everything going all right?"

"Yes, it is a fair wind and a fine sea; we are sailing rapidly along, and if I am not out in my reckoning, we shall soon land."

"Yes, the wind is favorable and the sea is calm. We are sailing quickly, and if my calculations are right, we will soon land."

At these words I rose and gazed round upon the horizon, still everywhere bounded by clouds alone.

At these words, I stood up and looked around. Clouds still surrounded the horizon on every side.