The Red Sea

In the course of the day of the 29th of January, the island of Ceylon disappeared under the horizon, and the Nautilus, at a speed of twenty miles an hour, slid into the labyrinth of canals which separate the Maldives from the Laccadives. It coasted even the Island of Kiltan, a land originally coraline, discovered by Vasco da Gama in 1499, and one of the nineteen principal islands of the Laccadive Archipelago, situated between 10° and 14° 30′ N. lat., and 69° 50′ 72″ E. long.

During January 29, the island of Ceylon disappeared below the horizon. The Nautilus slipped into the maze of channels separating the Maldives from the Laccadives, traveling at twenty miles an hour. It even sailed along the coast of Kiltan, an island originally formed from coral. Vasco da Gama discovered Kiltan in 1499. It is one of the nineteen principal islands of the Laccadive Archipelago. The archipelago lies between 10° and 14° 30′ north latitude and 69° 50′ 72″ east longitude.

We had made 16,220 miles, or 7,500 (French) leagues from our starting-point in the Japanese Seas.

We had traveled 16,220 miles, or 7,500 French leagues, from our starting point in the Japanese Seas.

The next day (30th January), when the Nautilus went to the surface of the ocean there was no land in sight. Its course was N.N.E., in the direction of the Sea of Oman, between Arabia and the Indian Peninsula, which serves as an outlet to the Persian Gulf. It was evidently a block without any possible egress. Where was Captain Nemo taking us to? I could not say. This, however, did not satisfy the Canadian, who that day came to me asking where we were going.

The next day (30th January), the Nautilus surfaced, but there was no land in sight. It was heading north-northeast toward the Sea of Oman, between Arabia and the Indian Peninsula. The Sea of Oman serves as an outlet to the Persian Gulf. It was clearly a dead end, with no way out. Where was Captain Nemo taking us? I could not say. But the Canadian was not satisfied with that. That day, he came to ask me where we were going.

“We are going where our Captain’s fancy takes us, Master Ned.”

“We’re going wherever our captain wants to go, Master Ned.”

“His fancy cannot take us far, then,” said the Canadian. “The Persian Gulf has no outlet: and, if we do go in, it will not be long before we are out again.”

“Then his whim can’t take us far,” said the Canadian. “The Persian Gulf has no outlet. And if we do go in, we’ll soon be out again.”

“Very well, then, we will come out again, Master Land; and if, after the Persian Gulf, the Nautilus would like to visit the Red Sea, the Straits of Bab-el-mandeb are there to give us entrance.”

“All right, then, we will come out again, Master Land. And if the Nautilus wants to visit the Red Sea after the Persian Gulf, the Straits of Bab-el-mandeb will let us in.”

“I need not tell you, sir,” said Ned Land, “that the Red Sea is as much closed as the Gulf, as the Isthmus of Suez is not yet cut; and, if it was, a boat as mysterious as ours would not risk itself in a canal cut with sluices. And again, the Red Sea is not the road to take us back to Europe.”

“I don't need to tell you, sir,” said Ned Land, “that the Red Sea is just as closed off as the Gulf. The Isthmus of Suez has not yet been cut. And even if it had been, a boat as mysterious as ours would not risk entering a canal with locks. Besides, the Red Sea is not the way back to Europe.”

“But I never said we were going back to Europe.”

“But I never said we were going back to Europe.”

“What do you suppose, then?”

“What do you think, then?”

“I suppose that, after visiting the curious coasts of Arabia and Egypt, the Nautilus will go down the Indian Ocean again, perhaps cross the Channel of Mozambique, perhaps off the Mascarenhas, so as to gain the Cape of Good Hope.”

“I suppose that after visiting the unusual coasts of Arabia and Egypt, the Nautilus will head south through the Indian Ocean again. It may cross the Channel of Mozambique or pass off the Mascarenhas to reach the Cape of Good Hope.”

“And once at the Cape of Good Hope?” asked the Canadian, with peculiar emphasis.

“And once we reach the Cape of Good Hope?” asked the Canadian, with unusual emphasis.

“Well, we shall penetrate into that Atlantic which we do not yet know. Ah! friend Ned, you are getting tired of this journey under the sea; you are surfeited with the incessantly varying spectacle of submarine wonders. For my part, I shall be sorry to see the end of a voyage which it is given to so few men to make.”

“Well, we shall explore the parts of the Atlantic we do not yet know. Ah, my friend Ned, you are growing tired of this journey under the sea. You have had your fill of the ever-changing spectacle of underwater wonders. As for me, I shall be sorry when this voyage ends. So few men have the chance to make such a journey.”

For four days, till the 3rd of February, the Nautilus scoured the Sea of Oman, at various speeds and at various depths. It seemed to go at random, as if hesitating as to which road it should follow, but we never passed the Tropic of Cancer.

For four days, until February 3, the Nautilus traveled all over the Sea of Oman at different speeds and depths. It seemed to wander at random, as if unsure which way to go. But we never crossed the Tropic of Cancer.

In quitting this sea we sighted Muscat for an instant, one of the most important towns of the country of Oman. I admired its strange aspect, surrounded by black rocks upon which its white houses and forts stood in relief. I saw the rounded domes of its mosques, the elegant points of its minarets, its fresh and verdant terraces. But it was only a vision! The Nautilus soon sank under the waves of that part of the sea.

As we left this sea, we caught a brief glimpse of Muscat, one of the most important towns in Oman. I admired its strange appearance. Black rocks surrounded the town, and its white houses and forts stood out against them. I saw the rounded domes of its mosques, the graceful points of its minarets, and its fresh, green terraces. But it was only a glimpse! The Nautilus soon sank beneath the waves there.

We passed along the Arabian coast of Mahrah and Hadramaut, for a distance of six miles, its undulating line of mountains being occasionally relieved by some ancient ruin. The 5th of February we at last entered the Gulf of Aden, a perfect funnel introduced into the neck of Bab-el-mandeb, through which the Indian waters entered the Red Sea.

We traveled six miles along the Arabian coast of Mahrah and Hadramaut. Ancient ruins occasionally broke the rolling line of mountains. On February 5, we finally entered the Gulf of Aden. The gulf was a perfect funnel leading into the narrow passage of Bab-el-mandeb. Through this passage, the waters of the Indian Ocean entered the Red Sea.

The 6th of February, the Nautilus floated in sight of Aden, perched upon a promontory which a narrow isthmus joins to the mainland, a kind of inaccessible Gibraltar, the fortifications of which were rebuilt by the English after taking possession in 1839. I caught a glimpse of the octagon minarets of this town, which was at one time the richest commercial magazine on the coast.

On February 6, the Nautilus floated within sight of Aden. The town sat on a promontory joined to the mainland by a narrow strip of land. It was like an inaccessible Gibraltar. The English rebuilt its fortifications after taking possession of it in 1839. I caught a glimpse of the town's eight-sided minarets. Aden had once been the richest commercial trading center on the coast.

I certainly thought that Captain Nemo, arrived at this point, would back out again; but I was mistaken, for he did no such thing, much to my surprise.

I was sure that Captain Nemo would back out once he reached this point. But I was wrong. Much to my surprise, he did not back out.

The next day, the 7th of February, we entered the Straits of Bab-el-mandeb, the name of which, in the Arab tongue, means The Gate of Tears.

The next day, February 7, we entered the Straits of Bab-el-mandeb. The name means The Gate of Tears in Arabic.

To twenty miles in breadth, it is only thirty-two in length. And for the Nautilus, starting at full speed, the crossing was scarcely the work of an hour. But I saw nothing, not even the Island of Perim, with which the British Government has fortified the position of Aden. There were too many English or French steamers of the line of Suez to Bombay, Calcutta to Melbourne, and from Bourbon to the Mauritius, furrowing this narrow passage, for the Nautilus to venture to show itself. So it remained prudently below. At last about noon, we were in the waters of the Red Sea.

It is only twenty miles wide and thirty-two miles long. At full speed, the Nautilus crossed it in scarcely an hour. But I saw nothing, not even the Island of Perim, which the British Government had fortified to secure its position at Aden. Too many English and French steamers were sailing through this narrow passage. They traveled on routes from Suez to Bombay, Calcutta to Melbourne, and Bourbon to the Mauritius. The Nautilus could not risk showing itself, so it prudently remained below the surface. At last, around noon, we entered the waters of the Red Sea.

I would not even seek to understand the caprice which had decided Captain Nemo upon entering the gulf. But I quite approved of the Nautilus entering it. Its speed was lessened: sometimes it kept on the surface, sometimes it dived to avoid a vessel, and thus I was able to observe the upper and lower parts of this curious sea.

I would not even try to understand what whim had made Captain Nemo enter the gulf. But I fully approved of the Nautilus entering it. The ship slowed down. Sometimes it stayed on the surface, and sometimes it dived to avoid another vessel. This allowed me to observe both the upper and lower parts of this curious sea.

The 8th of February, from the first dawn of day, Mocha came in sight, now a ruined town, whose walls would fall at a gunshot, yet which shelters here and there some verdant date-trees; once an important city, containing six public markets, and twenty-six mosques, and whose walls, defended by fourteen forts, formed a girdle of two miles in circumference.

At dawn on February 8, Mocha came into sight. It was now a ruined town, with walls that would fall at a gunshot, though green date palms still grew here and there. Mocha had once been an important city, with six public markets and twenty-six mosques. Its walls, defended by fourteen forts, formed a circle two miles around.

The Nautilus then approached the African shore, where the depth of the sea was greater. There, between two waters clear as crystal, through the open panels we were allowed to contemplate the beautiful bushes of brilliant coral and large blocks of rock clothed with a splendid fur of green algæ and fuci. What an indescribable spectacle, and what variety of sites and landscapes along these sandbanks and volcanic islands which bound the Libyan coast! But where these shrubs appeared in all their beauty was on the eastern coast, which the Nautilus soon gained. It was on the coast of Tehama, for there not only did this display of zoophytes flourish beneath the level of the sea, but they also formed picturesque interlacings which unfolded themselves about sixty feet above the surface, more capricious but less highly coloured than those whose freshness was kept up by the vital power of the waters.

The Nautilus then approached the African shore, where the sea was deeper. Through the open panels, we could see beautiful bushes of brilliant coral in the crystal clear water. Large blocks of rock were covered in a splendid coat of green algae and seaweed. What an indescribable sight, and what a variety of scenes and landscapes along the sandbanks and volcanic islands bordering the Libyan coast! But these shrubs appeared in all their beauty on the eastern coast, which the Nautilus soon reached. This was the coast of Tehama. There, these zoophytes flourished not only beneath the sea but also in picturesque tangles reaching about sixty feet above the surface. These tangles were more fantastically shaped but less brightly colored than those kept fresh by the life-giving water.

What charming hours I passed thus at the window of the saloon! What new specimens of submarine flora and fauna did I admire under the brightness of our electric lantern!

What delightful hours I spent at the saloon window! I admired so many new kinds of underwater plants and animals in the bright light of our electric lantern!

The 9th of February the Nautilus floated in the broadest part of the Red Sea, which is comprised between Souakin, on the west coast, and Komfidah, on the east coast, with a diameter of ninety miles.

On February 9, the Nautilus floated in the widest part of the Red Sea. This stretch was ninety miles wide, between Souakin on the west coast and Komfidah on the east coast.

That day at noon, after the bearings were taken, Captain Nemo mounted the platform, where I happened to be, and I was determined not to let him go down again without at least pressing him regarding his ulterior projects. As soon as he saw me he approached and graciously offered me a cigar.

That day at noon, after the bearings were taken, Captain Nemo came up to the platform, where I happened to be. I was determined not to let him go back down without at least pressing him about his future plans. As soon as he saw me, he came over and graciously offered me a cigar.

“Well, sir, does this Red Sea please you? Have you sufficiently observed the wonders it covers, its fishes, its zoophytes, its parterres of sponges, and its forests of coral? Did you catch a glimpse of the towns on its borders?”

“Well, sir, do you like the Red Sea? Have you seen enough of its wonders? Its fish, its animal colonies, its beds of sponges, and its forests of coral? Did you catch a glimpse of the towns along its shores?”

“Yes, Captain Nemo,” I replied; “and the Nautilus is wonderfully fitted for such a study. Ah! it is an intelligent boat!”

“Yes, Captain Nemo,” I replied. “The Nautilus is wonderfully suited for such a study. Ah! It is an intelligent boat!”

“Yes, sir, intelligent and invulnerable. It fears neither the terrible tempests of the Red Sea, nor its currents, nor its sandbanks.”

“Yes, sir, intelligent and impossible to damage. It fears neither the terrible storms of the Red Sea, nor its currents or sandbanks.”

“Certainly,” said I, “this sea is quoted as one of the worst, and in the time of the ancients, if I am not mistaken, its reputation was detestable.”

“Certainly,” I said, “this sea is known as one of the worst. If I’m not mistaken, it had a terrible reputation in ancient times.”

“Detestable, M. Aronnax. The Greek and Latin historians do not speak favourably of it, and Strabo says it is very dangerous during the Etesian winds and in the rainy season. The Arabian Edrisi portrays it under the name of the Gulf of Colzoum, and relates that vessels perished there in great numbers on the sandbanks and that no one would risk sailing in the night. It is, he pretends, a sea subject to fearful hurricanes, strewn with inhospitable islands, and ‘which offers nothing good either on its surface or in its depths.’”

“Detestable, M. Aronnax. The Greek and Latin historians do not speak well of it. Strabo says it is very dangerous during the Etesian winds and the rainy season. The Arabian Edrisi describes it as the Gulf of Colzoum. He says many ships were wrecked on its sandbanks, and no one would risk sailing there at night. He claims that the sea is prone to terrible hurricanes and dotted with unwelcoming islands. He says it ‘offers nothing good either on its surface or in its depths.’”

“One may see,” I replied, “that these historians never sailed on board the Nautilus.”

“You can see,” I replied, “that these historians never sailed aboard the Nautilus.”

“Just so,” replied the Captain, smiling; “and in that respect moderns are not more advanced than the ancients. It required many ages to find out the mechanical power of steam. Who knows if, in another hundred years, we may not see a second Nautilus? Progress is slow, M. Aronnax.”

“Exactly,” replied the Captain, smiling. “And in that respect, modern people are no more advanced than the ancients. It took many ages to discover the mechanical power of steam. Who knows whether we may see a second Nautilus? in another hundred years? Progress is slow, M. Aronnax.”

“It is true,” I answered; “your boat is at least a century before its time, perhaps an era. What a misfortune that the secret of such an invention should die with its inventor!”

“That’s true,” I answered. “Your boat is at least a century ahead of its time, perhaps an entire era. What a tragedy that the secret of such an invention should die with its inventor!”

Captain Nemo did not reply. After some minutes’ silence he continued:

Captain Nemo did not reply. After a few minutes of silence, he continued:

“You were speaking of the opinions of ancient historians upon the dangerous navigation of the Red Sea.”

“You were talking about what ancient historians thought about the dangers of sailing the Red Sea.”

“It is true,” said I; “but were not their fears exaggerated?”

“That’s true,” I said, “but weren’t their fears exaggerated?”

“Yes and no, M. Aronnax,” replied Captain Nemo, who seemed to know the Red Sea by heart. “That which is no longer dangerous for a modern vessel, well rigged, strongly built, and master of its own course, thanks to obedient steam, offered all sorts of perils to the ships of the ancients. Picture to yourself those first navigators venturing in ships made of planks sewn with the cords of the palmtree, saturated with the grease of the seadog, and covered with powdered resin! They had not even instruments wherewith to take their bearings, and they went by guess amongst currents of which they scarcely knew anything. Under such conditions shipwrecks were, and must have been, numerous. But in our time, steamers running between Suez and the South Seas have nothing more to fear from the fury of this gulf, in spite of contrary trade-winds. The captain and passengers do not prepare for their departure by offering propitiatory sacrifices; and, on their return, they no longer go ornamented with wreaths and gilt fillets to thank the gods in the neighbouring temple.”

“Yes and no, M. Aronnax,” replied Captain Nemo, who seemed to know the Red Sea by heart. “It is no longer dangerous for a modern vessel that is well rigged and strongly built. Such a vessel can control its own course, thanks to the reliable power of steam. But the Red Sea posed all sorts of dangers to ancient ships. Imagine those first sailors venturing out in ships made of planks sewn together with palm tree cords. The planks were soaked in seal grease and covered with powdered resin! The sailors did not even have instruments to determine their position. They navigated by guesswork among currents they knew almost nothing about. Under those conditions, shipwrecks were, and had to be, numerous. But in our time, steamships traveling between Suez and the South Seas have nothing more to fear from the fury of this gulf, despite the opposing trade winds. The captain and passengers do not prepare for departure by offering sacrifices to gain the gods’ favor. And when they return, they no longer wear wreaths and gilded bands to thank the gods in the nearby temple.”

“I agree with you,” said I; “and steam seems to have killed all gratitude in the hearts of sailors. But, Captain, since you seem to have especially studied this sea, can you tell me the origin of its name?”

“I agree with you,” I said. “And steam seems to have killed all gratitude in sailors’ hearts. But, Captain, since you seem to have studied this sea closely, can you tell me where its name comes from?”

“There exist several explanations on the subject, M. Aronnax. Would you like to know the opinion of a chronicler of the fourteenth century?”

“There are several explanations, M. Aronnax. Would you like to know what a fourteenth-century chronicler thought?”

“Willingly.”

“Gladly.”

“This fanciful writer pretends that its name was given to it after the passage of the Israelites, when Pharaoh perished in the waves which closed at the voice of Moses.”

“This fanciful writer claims that it was named after the Israelites crossed. Pharaoh died then, when the waves closed at Moses’ command.”

“A poet’s explanation, Captain Nemo,” I replied; “but I cannot content myself with that. I ask you for your personal opinion.”

“That’s a poet’s explanation, Captain Nemo,” I replied, “but I can’t settle for that. I’m asking for your personal opinion.”

“Here it is, M. Aronnax. According to my idea, we must see in this appellation of the Red Sea a translation of the Hebrew word ‘Edom’; and if the ancients gave it that name, it was on account of the particular colour of its waters.”

“Here it is, M. Aronnax. I believe the name Red Sea is a translation of the Hebrew word ‘Edom’. If the ancients gave it that name, it was because of the distinctive color of its waters.”

“But up to this time I have seen nothing but transparent waves and without any particular colour.”

“But so far, I have seen only clear waves with no particular color.”

“Very likely; but as we advance to the bottom of the gulf, you will see this singular appearance. I remember seeing the Bay of Tor entirely red, like a sea of blood.”

“Very likely. But as we move farther into the gulf, you will see this strange sight. I remember seeing the Bay of Tor completely red, like a sea of blood.”

“And you attribute this colour to the presence of a microscopic seaweed?”

“And do you think this color comes from microscopic seaweed?”

“Yes.”

“Yes.”

“So, Captain Nemo, it is not the first time you have overrun the Red Sea on board the Nautilus?”

“So, Captain Nemo, this is not your first time sailing through the Red Sea aboard the Nautilus?”

“No, sir.”

“No, sir.”

“As you spoke a while ago of the passage of the Israelites and of the catastrophe to the Egyptians, I will ask whether you have met with the traces under the water of this great historical fact?”

“Earlier, you spoke of the Israelites’ crossing and the disaster that befell the Egyptians. Have you found any traces of this great historical event underwater?”

“No, sir; and for a good reason.”

“No, sir, and for a good reason.”

“What is it?”

“What is it?”

“It is that the spot where Moses and his people passed is now so blocked up with sand that the camels can barely bathe their legs there. You can well understand that there would not be water enough for my Nautilus.”

“The place where Moses and his people crossed is now so filled with sand that camels can barely get their legs wet there. You can understand that there would not be enough water for my Nautilus.”

“And the spot?” I asked.

“And the spot?” I asked.

“The spot is situated a little above the Isthmus of Suez, in the arm which formerly made a deep estuary, when the Red Sea extended to the Salt Lakes. Now, whether this passage were miraculous or not, the Israelites, nevertheless, crossed there to reach the Promised Land, and Pharaoh’s army perished precisely on that spot; and I think that excavations made in the middle of the sand would bring to light a large number of arms and instruments of Egyptian origin.”

“The spot is just above the Isthmus of Suez, in the arm that once formed a deep estuary. At that time, the Red Sea extended to the Salt Lakes. Whether the crossing was miraculous or not, the Israelites crossed there to reach the Promised Land. Pharaoh’s army perished at that very spot. I think that digging in the sand there would uncover many weapons and tools of Egyptian origin.”

“That is evident,” I replied; “and for the sake of archaeologists let us hope that these excavations will be made sooner or later, when new towns are established on the isthmus, after the construction of the Suez Canal; a canal, however, very useless to a vessel like the Nautilus.”

“That is clear,” I replied. “For the sake of archaeologists, let us hope these excavations will happen sooner or later. They may be made when new towns are established on the isthmus after the Suez Canal is built. The canal, however, would be quite useless to a vessel like the Nautilus.”

“Very likely; but useful to the whole world,” said Captain Nemo. “The ancients well understood the utility of a communication between the Red Sea and the Mediterranean for their commercial affairs: but they did not think of digging a canal direct, and took the Nile as an intermediate. Very probably the canal which united the Nile to the Red Sea was begun by Sesostris, if we may believe tradition. One thing is certain, that in the year 615 before Jesus Christ, Necos undertook the works of an alimentary canal to the waters of the Nile across the plain of Egypt, looking towards Arabia. It took four days to go up this canal, and it was so wide that two triremes could go abreast. It was carried on by Darius, the son of Hystaspes, and probably finished by Ptolemy II. Strabo saw it navigated: but its decline from the point of departure, near Bubastes, to the Red Sea was so slight that it was only navigable for a few months in the year. This canal answered all commercial purposes to the age of Antonius, when it was abandoned and blocked up with sand. Restored by order of the Caliph Omar, it was definitely destroyed in 761 or 762 by Caliph Al-Mansor, who wished to prevent the arrival of provisions to Mohammed-ben-Abdallah, who had revolted against him. During the expedition into Egypt, your General Bonaparte discovered traces of the works in the Desert of Suez; and, surprised by the tide, he nearly perished before regaining Hadjaroth, at the very place where Moses had encamped three thousand years before him.”

“Very likely, but useful to the whole world,” said Captain Nemo. “The ancients understood how useful a link between the Red Sea and the Mediterranean would be for trade. But they did not think of digging a direct canal. Instead, they used the Nile as a link. If we believe tradition, Sesostris very probably began the canal connecting the Nile to the Red Sea. One thing is certain. In 615 BC, Necos began work on a feeder canal for the waters of the Nile. It crossed the Egyptian plain toward Arabia. The journey up the canal took four days. It was wide enough for two triremes to travel side by side. Darius, the son of Hystaspes, continued the work, and Ptolemy II probably finished it. Strabo saw boats using the canal. But the slope from its starting point near Bubastes to the Red Sea was very slight. As a result, boats could use it for only a few months each year. “The canal served all commercial needs until the time of Antonius, when it was abandoned and filled with sand. It was restored by order of the Caliph Omar. But Caliph Al-Mansor destroyed it for good in 761 or 762. He wanted to prevent supplies from reaching Mohammed-ben-Abdallah, who had revolted against him. During the expedition to Egypt, your General Bonaparte discovered traces of the canal works in the Desert of Suez. Caught by the tide, he nearly died before reaching Hadjaroth again. That was the very place where Moses had camped three thousand years before him.”

“Well, Captain, what the ancients dared not undertake, this junction between the two seas, which will shorten the road from Cadiz to India, M. Lesseps has succeeded in doing; and before long he will have changed Africa into an immense island.”

“Well, Captain, the ancients did not dare to connect the two seas, but M. Lesseps has succeeded. The connection will shorten the route from Cadiz to India. Before long, he will have turned Africa into a huge island.”

“Yes, M. Aronnax; you have the right to be proud of your countryman. Such a man brings more honour to a nation than great captains. He began, like so many others, with disgust and rebuffs; but he has triumphed, for he has the genius of will. And it is sad to think that a work like that, which ought to have been an international work and which would have sufficed to make a reign illustrious, should have succeeded by the energy of one man. All honour to M. Lesseps!”

“Yes, M. Aronnax, you have every right to be proud of your countryman. A man like him brings more honor to a nation than great military commanders do. Like so many others, he began by facing contempt and rejection. But he has triumphed because his willpower is a kind of genius. It is sad to think that such a project succeeded through the energy of one man. It should have been an international effort, and it would have been enough to make a ruler’s reign illustrious. All honor to M. Lesseps!”

“Yes! honour to the great citizen,” I replied, surprised by the manner in which Captain Nemo had just spoken.

“Yes! Honor to the great citizen,” I replied. I was surprised by the way Captain Nemo had just spoken.

“Unfortunately,” he continued, “I cannot take you through the Suez Canal; but you will be able to see the long jetty of Port Said after to-morrow, when we shall be in the Mediterranean.”

“Unfortunately,” he continued, “I cannot take you through the Suez Canal. But the day after tomorrow, we will be in the Mediterranean, and you will be able to see the long jetty at Port Said.”

“The Mediterranean!” I exclaimed.

“The Mediterranean!” I exclaimed.

“Yes, sir; does that astonish you?”

“Yes, sir. Does that surprise you?”

“What astonishes me is to think that we shall be there the day after to-morrow.”

“What amazes me is that we'll be there the day after tomorrow.”

“Indeed?”

“Really?”

“Yes, Captain, although by this time I ought to have accustomed myself to be surprised at nothing since I have been on board your boat.”

“Yes, Captain, although by now I should be used to nothing surprising me aboard your boat.”

“But the cause of this surprise?”

“But what caused this surprise?”

“Well! it is the fearful speed you will have to put on the Nautilus, if the day after to-morrow she is to be in the Mediterranean, having made the round of Africa, and doubled the Cape of Good Hope!”

“Well! You will have to drive the Nautilus at a terrifying speed. She must sail around Africa and past the Cape of Good Hope to reach the Mediterranean by the day after tomorrow!”

“Who told you that she would make the round of Africa and double the Cape of Good Hope, sir?”

“Who told you she would sail around Africa and round the Cape of Good Hope, sir?”

“Well, unless the Nautilus sails on dry land, and passes above the isthmus——”

“Well, unless the Nautilus can sail on dry land and cross the isthmus...”

“Or beneath it, M. Aronnax.”

“Or under it, Mr. Aronnax.”

“Beneath it?”

“Under it?”

“Certainly,” replied Captain Nemo quietly. “A long time ago Nature made under this tongue of land what man has this day made on its surface.”

“Certainly,” Captain Nemo replied quietly. “Long ago, Nature made something beneath this strip of land that people have now made on its surface.”

“What! such a passage exists?”

“What! A passage like that exists?”

“Yes; a subterranean passage, which I have named the Arabian Tunnel. It takes us beneath Suez and opens into the Gulf of Pelusium.”

“Yes, an underground passage that I have named the Arabian Tunnel. It takes us beneath Suez and opens into the Gulf of Pelusium.”

“But this isthmus is composed of nothing but quicksands?”

“But this isthmus is made up entirely of quicksand?”

“To a certain depth. But at fifty-five yards only there is a solid layer of rock.”

“To a certain depth. But at just fifty-five yards, there is a solid layer of rock.”

“Did you discover this passage by chance?” I asked more and more surprised.

“Did you find this passage by chance?” I asked, growing more and more surprised.

“Chance and reasoning, sir; and by reasoning even more than by chance. Not only does this passage exist, but I have profited by it several times. Without that I should not have ventured this day into the impassable Red Sea. I noticed that in the Red Sea and in the Mediterranean there existed a certain number of fishes of a kind perfectly identical. Certain of the fact, I asked myself was it possible that there was no communication between the two seas? If there was, the subterranean current must necessarily run from the Red Sea to the Mediterranean, from the sole cause of difference of level. I caught a large number of fishes in the neighbourhood of Suez. I passed a copper ring through their tails, and threw them back into the sea. Some months later, on the coast of Syria, I caught some of my fish ornamented with the ring. Thus the communication between the two was proved. I then sought for it with my Nautilus; I discovered it, ventured into it, and before long, sir, you too will have passed through my Arabian tunnel!”

“Chance and reasoning, sir, but reasoning more than chance. This passage exists, and I have used it several times. Without it, I would not have ventured into the impassable Red Sea today. I noticed that some fish in the Red Sea were identical to fish in the Mediterranean. Once I was sure of this, I asked myself whether there could be no connection between the two seas. If there was one, the underground current had to flow from the Red Sea to the Mediterranean. That was simply because of the difference in their levels. I caught a large number of fish near Suez. I passed a copper ring through each fish’s tail and threw them back into the sea. Some months later, off the coast of Syria, I caught some of my fish with the rings. This proved that the two seas were connected. I then searched for the passage with my Nautilus. I found it and ventured into it. Before long, sir, you too will have passed through my Arabian tunnel!”