The Monsters' Battle

Saturday, August 15.—The sea unbroken all round. No land in sight. The horizon seems extremely distant.

Saturday, August 15. The sea stretches unbroken in every direction. No land in sight. The horizon seems very far away.

My head is still stupefied with the vivid reality of my dream.

I am still dazed by how vivid and real my dream was.

My uncle has had no dreams, but he is out of temper. He examines the horizon all round with his glass, and folds his arms with the air of an injured man.

My uncle has had no dreams, but he is in a bad mood. He scans the horizon in every direction with his telescope. Then he folds his arms, looking like a man who has been wronged.

I remark that Professor Liedenbrock has a tendency to relapse into an impatient mood, and I make a note of it in my log. All my danger and sufferings were needed to strike a spark of human feeling out of him; but now that I am well his nature has resumed its sway. And yet, what cause was there for anger? Is not the voyage prospering as favourably as possible under the circumstances? Is not the raft spinning along with marvellous speed?

I notice that Professor Liedenbrock is growing impatient again, and I make a note of it in my log. It took all my danger and suffering to bring out a spark of human feeling in him. But now that I am well, his usual nature has taken over again. And yet, what reason did he have to be angry? Isn’t the voyage going as well as possible under the circumstances? Isn’t the raft moving along at a wonderful speed?

"-You seem anxious, my uncle," I said, seeing him continually with his glass to his eye.

"You seem worried, Uncle," I said, seeing him constantly looking through his glass.

"Anxious! No, not at all."

"Anxious! No, not at all."

"Impatient, then?"

"Impatient, then?"

"One might be, with less reason than now."

"You could be, with less reason than you have now."

"Yet we are going very fast."

"But we're going very fast."

"What does that signify? I am not complaining that the rate is slow, but that the sea is so wide."

"What does that matter? I'm not complaining that we're going slowly, but that the sea is so wide."

I then remembered that the Professor, before starting, had estimated the length of this underground sea at thirty leagues. Now we had made three times the distance, yet still the southern coast was not in sight.

I then remembered that before we set out, the Professor had estimated the underground sea was thirty leagues long. We had now traveled three times that distance, but the southern coast was still out of sight.

"We are not descending as we ought to be," the Professor declares. "We are losing time, and the fact is, I have not come all this way to take a little sail upon a pond on a raft."

"We’re not going down as we should," the Professor says. "We’re wasting time. I didn’t come all this way to take a little raft ride on a pond."

He called this sea a pond, and our long voyage, taking a little sail!

He called this sea a pond and our long voyage a little sail!

"But," I remarked, "since we have followed the road that Saknussemm has shown us—"

"But," I said, "we have followed the road Saknussemm showed us, so..."

"That is just the question. Have we followed that road? Did Saknussemm meet this sheet of water? Did he cross it? Has not the stream that we followed led us altogether astray?"

"That's exactly the question. Have we followed that route? Did Saknussemm come across this body of water? Did he cross it? Hasn't the stream we followed led us completely astray?"

"At any rate we cannot feel sorry to have come so far. This prospect is magnificent, and—"

"At least we can't be sorry we came this far. The view is magnificent, and..."

"But I don't care for prospects. I came with an object, and I mean to attain it. Therefore don't talk to me about views and prospects."

"But I don't care about the scenery. I came here with a goal, and I intend to achieve it. So don't talk to me about views and scenery."

I take this as my answer, and I leave the Professor to bite his lips with impatience. At six in the evening Hans asks for his wages, and his three rix dollars are counted out to him.

I take this as my answer and leave the Professor biting his lips with impatience. At six in the evening, Hans asks for his wages, and his three rix dollars are counted out to him.

Sunday, August 16. —Nothing new. Weather unchanged. The wind freshens. On awaking, my first thought was to observe the intensity of the light. I was possessed with an apprehension lest the electric light should grow dim, or fail altogether. But there seemed no reason to fear. The shadow of the raft was clearly outlined upon the surface of the waves.

Sunday, August 16. Nothing new. The weather is unchanged. The wind is picking up. When I woke, my first thought was to check how bright the light was. I was afraid the electric light might grow dim or fail altogether. But there seemed to be no reason to fear. The raft's shadow was clearly outlined on the surface of the waves.

My uncle took soundings several times. He tied the heaviest of our pickaxes to a long rope which he let down two hundred fathoms. No bottom yet; and we had some difficulty in hauling up our plummet.

My uncle measured the depth several times. He tied our heaviest pickaxe to a long rope and lowered it 200 fathoms. It still did not reach the bottom, and we had some difficulty pulling it back up.

But when the pick was shipped again, Hans pointed out on its surface deep prints as if it had been violently compressed between two hard bodies.

But when the pick was brought back aboard, Hans pointed out deep marks on its surface. They looked as if the pick had been violently squeezed between two hard objects.

I looked at the hunter.

I looked at the hunter.

"Tänder," said he.

"Tänder," he said.

I could not understand him, and turned to my uncle who was entirely absorbed in his calculations. I had rather not disturb him while he is quiet. I return to the Icelander. He by a snapping motion of his jaws conveys his ideas to me.

I could not understand him, so I turned to my uncle, who was absorbed in his calculations. I would rather not disturb him while he is quiet. I turn back to the Icelander. He communicates his ideas to me by snapping his jaws.

"Teeth!" I cried, considering the iron bar with more attention.

"Teeth!" I cried, looking more closely at the iron bar.

Yes, indeed, those are the marks of teeth imprinted upon the metal! The jaws which they arm must be possessed of amazing strength. Is there some monster beneath us belonging to the extinct races, more voracious than the shark, more fearful in vastness than the whale? I could not take my eyes off this indented iron bar. Surely will my last night's dream be realised?

Yes, those really are teeth marks in the metal! The jaws holding those teeth must be incredibly strong. Is there a monster from an extinct race beneath us, hungrier than a shark and more terrifying in size than a whale? I could not take my eyes off the dented iron bar. Surely my dream from last night will come true?

These thoughts agitated me all day, and my imagination scarcely calmed down after several hours' sleep.

These thoughts troubled me all day, and my imagination hardly calmed down even after several hours of sleep.

Monday, August 17.— I am trying to recall the peculiar instincts of the monsters of the pre-adamite world, who, coming next in succession after the molluscs, the crustaceans and the fishes, preceded the animals of mammalian race upon the earth. The world then belonged to reptiles. Those monsters held the mastery in the seas of the secondary period. They possessed a perfect organisation, gigantic proportions, prodigious strength. The saurians of our day, the alligators and the crocodiles, are but feeble reproductions of their forefathers of primitive ages.

Monday, August 17. I am trying to remember the unusual instincts of the monsters of the world before Adam. They came after the molluscs, crustaceans, and fish, but before mammals appeared on earth. The world then belonged to reptiles. Those monsters ruled the seas during the secondary period. They had perfectly formed bodies, enormous size, and incredible strength. Today’s reptiles, such as alligators and crocodiles, are only weak copies of their ancient ancestors.

I shudder as I recall these monsters to my remembrance. No human eye has ever beheld them living. They burdened this earth a thousand ages before man appeared, but their fossil remains, found in the argillaceous limestone called by the English the lias, have enabled their colossal structure to be perfectly built up again and anatomically ascertained.

I shudder when I remember these monsters. No human eye has ever seen them alive. They roamed the earth a thousand ages before humans appeared. But their fossils have been found in clay-rich limestone that the English call lias. These remains have allowed their colossal bodies to be completely reconstructed and their anatomy determined.

I saw at the Hamburg museum the skeleton of one of these creatures thirty feet in length. Am I then fated—I, a denizen of earth—to be placed face to face with these representatives of long extinct families? No; surely it cannot be! Yet the deep marks of conical teeth upon the iron pick are certainly those of the crocodile.

At the Hamburg museum, I saw the skeleton of one of these creatures. It was thirty feet long. Am I, a creature of the earth, destined to come face to face with creatures from long-extinct families? No, surely that cannot be! Yet the deep marks of conical teeth on the iron pick are certainly those of a crocodile.

My eyes are fearfully bent upon the sea. I dread to see one of these monsters darting forth from its submarine caverns. I suppose Professor Liedenbrock was of my opinion too, and even shared my fears, for after having examined the pick, his eyes traversed the ocean from side to side. What a very bad notion that was of his, I thought to myself, to take soundings just here! He has disturbed some monstrous beast in its remote den, and if we are not attacked on our voyage—

I stare fearfully at the sea. I dread seeing one of these monsters dart out of its underwater cave. I suppose Professor Liedenbrock agreed with me and even shared my fears. After examining the pick, he scanned the ocean from side to side. What a bad idea it was, I thought, for him to measure the depth right here! He has disturbed some monstrous beast in its remote den, and if we are not attacked on our voyage...

I look at our guns and see that they are all right. My uncle notices it, and looks on approvingly.

I check our guns and see that they are all right. My uncle notices and watches approvingly.

Already widely disturbed regions on the surface of the water indicate some commotion below. The danger is approaching. We must be on the look out.

Large areas of the water’s surface are already disturbed, showing that something is stirring below. The danger is approaching. We must stay alert.

Tuesday, August 18. —Evening came, or rather the time came when sleep weighs down the weary eyelids, for there is no night here, and the ceaseless light wearies the eyes with its persistency just as if we were sailing under an arctic sun. Hans was at the helm. During his watch I slept.

Tuesday, August 18. Evening came, or rather, the time came when our tired eyes grew heavy with sleep. There is no night here. The constant light tires our eyes, just as if we were sailing under an arctic sun. Hans was at the helm. I slept while he kept watch.

Two hours afterwards a terrible shock awoke me. The raft was heaved up on a watery mountain and pitched down again, at a distance of twenty fathoms.

Two hours later, a terrible jolt woke me. A huge wave lifted the raft and tossed it down again, 120 feet away.

"What is the matter?" shouted my uncle. "Have we struck land?"

"What's wrong?" shouted my uncle. "Have we hit land?"

Hans pointed with his finger at a dark mass six hundred yards away, rising and falling alternately with heavy plunges. I looked and cried:

Hans pointed at a dark mass six hundred yards away. It rose and fell with heavy plunges. I looked and cried:

"It is an enormous porpoise."

"It is a huge porpoise."

"Yes," replied my uncle, "and there is a sea lizard of vast size."

"Yes," my uncle replied, "and there is a huge sea lizard."

"And farther on a monstrous crocodile. Look at its vast jaws and its rows of teeth! It is diving down!"

"And farther on, a huge crocodile. Look at its enormous jaws and rows of teeth! It's diving down!"

"There's a whale, a whale!" cried the Professor. "I can see its great fins. See how he is throwing out air and water through his blowers."

"There's a whale, a whale!" cried the Professor. "I can see its huge fins. Look how it's blowing air and water through its blowholes."

And in fact two liquid columns were rising to a considerable height above the sea. We stood amazed, thunderstruck, at the presence of such a herd of marine monsters. They were of supernatural dimensions; the smallest of them would have crunched our raft, crew and all, at one snap of its huge jaws.

And indeed, two columns of water rose high above the sea. We stood stunned and amazed at the sight of such a herd of sea monsters. They were supernaturally large. Even the smallest could have crushed our raft and its entire crew in one snap of its huge jaws.

Hans wants to tack to get away from this dangerous neighbourhood; but he sees on the other hand enemies not less terrible; a tortoise forty feet long, and a serpent of thirty, lifting its fearful head and gleaming eyes above the flood.

Hans wants to tack away from this dangerous area. But on the other side, he sees enemies just as terrifying: a forty-foot tortoise and a thirty-foot serpent. The serpent raises its terrifying head and gleaming eyes above the water.

Flight was out of the question now. The reptiles rose; they wheeled around our little raft with a rapidity greater than that of express trains. They described around us gradually narrowing circles. I took up my rifle. But what could a ball do against the scaly armour with which these enormous beasts were clad?

Escape was impossible now. The reptiles rose and circled our little raft faster than express trains. Their circles grew tighter around us. I picked up my rifle. But what could a bullet do against the scaly armor covering these enormous beasts?

We stood dumb with fear. They approach us close: on one side the crocodile, on the other the serpent. The remainder of the sea monsters have disappeared. I prepare to fire. Hans stops me by a gesture. The two monsters pass within a hundred and fifty yards of the raft, and hurl themselves the one upon the other, with a fury which prevents them from seeing us.

We stood speechless with fear. They came close to us, the crocodile on one side and the serpent on the other. The other sea monsters had disappeared. I prepared to fire, but Hans gestured for me to stop. The two monsters passed within 150 yards of the raft. They hurled themselves at each other, fighting so fiercely that they did not see us.

At three hundred yards from us the battle was fought. We could distinctly observe the two monsters engaged in deadly conflict. But it now seems to me as if the other animals were taking part in the fray—the porpoise, the whale, the lizard, the tortoise. Every moment I seem to see one or other of them. I point them to the Icelander. He shakes his head negatively.

The battle was taking place three hundred yards from us. We could clearly see the two monsters fighting to the death. But now it seems to me as if the other animals are joining the fight: the porpoise, the whale, the lizard, the tortoise. Every moment, I seem to see one or another of them. I point them out to the Icelander. He shakes his head.

"Tva," says he.

"Tva," he says.

"What two? Does he mean that there are only two animals?"

"What two? Does he mean there are only two animals?"

"He is right," said my uncle, whose glass has never left his eye.

"He is right," said my uncle, who had never taken his glass from his eye.

"Surely you must be mistaken," I cried.

"You must be mistaken," I cried.

"No: the first of those monsters has a porpoise's snout, a lizard's head, a crocodile's teeth; and hence our mistake. It is the ichthyosaurus (the fish lizard), the most terrible of the ancient monsters of the deep."

"No, the first of those monsters has a porpoise's snout, a lizard's head, and a crocodile's teeth. That's why we were mistaken. It is the ichthyosaurus (the fish lizard), the most terrible of the ancient monsters of the deep."

"And the other?"

"And the other?"

"The other is a plesiosaurus (almost lizard), a serpent, armoured with the carapace and the paddles of a turtle; he is the dreadful enemy of the other."

"The other is a plesiosaurus (almost lizard), a serpent armored with a turtle's shell and flippers. It is the other creature's dreadful enemy."

Hans had spoken truly. Two monsters only were creating all this commotion; and before my eyes are two reptiles of the primitive world. I can distinguish the eye of the ichthyosaurus glowing like a red-hot coal, and as large as a man's head. Nature has endowed it with an optical apparatus of extreme power, and capable of resisting the pressure of the great volume of water in the depths it inhabits. It has been appropriately called the saurian whale, for it has both the swiftness and the rapid movements of this monster of our own day. This one is not less than a hundred feet long, and I can judge of its size when it sweeps over the waters the vertical coils of its tail. Its jaw is enormous, and according to naturalists it is armed with no less than one hundred and eighty-two teeth.

Hans was right. Only two monsters were causing all this commotion, and before my eyes were two prehistoric reptiles. I can make out the ichthyosaurus’s eye, glowing like a red-hot coal and as large as a man’s head. Nature has given it an extremely powerful eye, capable of resisting the water pressure at the depths where it lives. It has rightly been called the saurian whale, because it is as fast and agile as the whale of our own day. This ichthyosaurus is at least a hundred feet long. I can judge its size as it sweeps the vertical coils of its tail over the water. Its jaw is enormous, and naturalists say it is armed with no fewer than 182 teeth.

The plesiosaurus, a serpent with a cylindrical body and a short tail, has four flappers or paddles to act like oars. Its body is entirely covered with a thick armour of scales, and its neck, as flexible as a swan's, rises thirty feet above the waves.

The plesiosaurus is a serpent with a cylindrical body and a short tail. It has four flippers, or paddles, that act like oars. Its body is completely covered in thick armor made of scales. Its neck is as flexible as a swan's and rises thirty feet above the waves.

Those huge creatures attacked each other with the greatest animosity. They heaved around them liquid mountains, which rolled even to our raft and rocked it perilously. Twenty times we were near capsizing. Hissings of prodigious force are heard. The two beasts are fast locked together; I cannot distinguish the one from the other. The probable rage of the conqueror inspires us with intense fear.

The huge creatures attacked each other with fierce hatred. They threw up mountains of water that rolled toward our raft and rocked it dangerously. Twenty times, we nearly capsized. Tremendously loud hisses fill the air. The two beasts are locked tightly together. I cannot tell one from the other. We are terrified at the thought of how furious the winner will probably be.

One hour, two hours, pass away. The struggle continues with unabated ferocity. The combatants alternately approach and recede from our raft. We remain motionless, ready to fire. Suddenly the ichthyosaurus and the plesiosaurus disappear below, leaving a whirlpool eddying in the water. Several minutes pass by while the fight goes on under water.

One hour passes, then two. The fight continues just as fiercely. The creatures move toward our raft, then away from it. We remain still, ready to fire. Suddenly, the ichthyosaurus and the plesiosaurus disappear beneath the water, leaving a swirling whirlpool. Several minutes pass as the fight continues underwater.

All at once an enormous head is darted up, the head of the plesiosaurus. The monster is wounded to death. I no longer see his scaly armour. Only his long neck shoots up, drops again, coils and uncoils, droops, lashes the waters like a gigantic whip, and writhes like a worm that you tread on. The water is splashed for a long way around. The spray almost blinds us. But soon the reptile's agony draws to an end; its movements become fainter, its contortions cease to be so violent, and the long serpentine form lies a lifeless log on the labouring deep.

Suddenly, an enormous head shoots up from the water. It is the plesiosaurus. The monster is dying from its wounds. I can no longer see its scaly armor. Only its long neck shoots up and falls again. It coils and uncoils, droops, lashes the water like a giant whip, and writhes like a worm underfoot. Water splashes for a long way around. The spray almost blinds us. But soon the reptile’s struggle ends. Its movements grow weaker, and its twisting becomes less violent. Its long, snakelike body lies like a lifeless log on the churning sea.

As for the ichthyosaurus—has he returned to his submarine cavern? or will he reappear on the surface of the sea?

What about the ichthyosaurus? Has he returned to his underwater cave, or will he reappear on the surface of the sea?