Part One, Chapter 20

A Few Days on Land

11 min

I was much impressed on touching land. Ned Land tried the soil with his feet, as if to take possession of it. However, it was only two months before that we had become, according to Captain Nemo, “passengers on board the Nautilus,” but, in reality, prisoners of its commander.

I was deeply moved when I set foot on land. Ned Land tested the ground with his feet, as if claiming it. Yet only two months earlier, we had become, in Captain Nemo’s words, “passengers on board the Nautilus.” In reality, we were prisoners of its commander.

In a few minutes we were within musket-shot of the coast. The whole horizon was hidden behind a beautiful curtain of forests. Enormous trees, the trunks of which attained a height of 200 feet, were tied to each other by garlands of bindweed, real natural hammocks, which a light breeze rocked. They were mimosas, figs, hibisci, and palm trees, mingled together in profusion; and under the shelter of their verdant vault grew orchids, leguminous plants, and ferns.

Within a few minutes, we were within musket range of the coast. A beautiful curtain of forest hid the whole horizon. Enormous trees had trunks reaching 200 feet high. Garlands of bindweed connected them, forming natural hammocks that swayed in the light breeze. Mimosas, figs, hibiscuses, and palm trees grew together in abundance. Beneath their green canopy grew orchids, legumes, and ferns.

But, without noticing all these beautiful specimens of Papuan flora, the Canadian abandoned the agreeable for the useful. He discovered a coco-tree, beat down some of the fruit, broke them, and we drunk the milk and ate the nut with a satisfaction that protested against the ordinary food on the Nautilus.

But the Canadian paid no attention to all these beautiful Papuan plants. He chose what was useful over what was pleasant. He found a coconut tree, knocked down some coconuts, and broke them open. We drank the milk and ate the flesh with a satisfaction that spoke against the ordinary food on the Nautilus.

“Excellent!” said Ned Land.

“Exquisite!” replied Conseil.

“And I do not think,” said the Canadian, “that he would object to our introducing a cargo of coco-nuts on board.”

“And I don't think,” said the Canadian, “that he would mind if we brought a load of coconuts on board.”

“I do not think he would, but he would not taste them.”

“I don't think he would, but he wouldn't taste them.”

“So much the worse for him,” said Conseil.

“That's too bad for him,” said Conseil.

“And so much the better for us,” replied Ned Land. “There will be more for us.”

“All the better for us,” Ned Land replied. “There will be more for us.”

“One word only, Master Land,” I said to the harpooner, who was beginning to ravage another coco-nut tree. “Coco-nuts are good things, but before filling the canoe with them it would be wise to reconnoitre and see if the island does not produce some substance not less useful. Fresh vegetables would be welcome on board the Nautilus.”

“One word, Master Land,” I said to the harpooner, who was beginning to strip another coconut tree. “Coconuts are good, but we should look around before filling the canoe with them. The island may have other things that are just as useful. Fresh vegetables would be welcome aboard the Nautilus.”

“Master is right,” replied Conseil; “and I propose to reserve three places in our vessel, one for fruits, the other for vegetables, and the third for the venison, of which I have not yet seen the smallest specimen.”

“Master is right,” replied Conseil. “I suggest we set aside three spaces in our vessel: one for fruit, one for vegetables, and one for venison. I haven't seen the smallest bit of venison yet.”

“Conseil, we must not despair,” said the Canadian.

“Conseil, we must not give up hope,” said the Canadian.

“Let us continue,” I returned, “and lie in wait. Although the island seems uninhabited, it might still contain some individuals that would be less hard than we on the nature of game.”

“Let’s keep going,” I replied, “and stay alert. Although the island seems uninhabited, it might still have some inhabitants who are less picky than we are about what they hunt.”

“Ho! ho!” said Ned Land, moving his jaws significantly.

“Ho! ho!” said Ned Land, moving his jaws meaningfully.

“Well, Ned!” said Conseil.

“My word!” returned the Canadian, “I begin to understand the charms of anthropophagy.”

“My goodness!” replied the Canadian. “I'm beginning to understand the appeal of cannibalism.”

“Ned! Ned! what are you saying? You, a man-eater? I should not feel safe with you, especially as I share your cabin. I might perhaps wake one day to find myself half devoured.”

“Ned! Ned! What are you saying? You, a cannibal? I wouldn't feel safe with you, especially since we share a cabin. I might wake up one day to find myself half eaten.”

“Friend Conseil, I like you much, but not enough to eat you unnecessarily.”

“Conseil, my friend, I like you a lot, but not enough to eat you unless I have to.”

“I would not trust you,” replied Conseil. “But enough. We must absolutely bring down some game to satisfy this cannibal, or else one of these fine mornings, master will find only pieces of his servant to serve him.”

“I wouldn’t trust you,” replied Conseil. “But enough. We absolutely must hunt some game to satisfy this cannibal. Otherwise, one of these fine mornings, master will find only pieces of his servant left to serve him.”

While we were talking thus, we were penetrating the sombre arches of the forest, and for two hours we surveyed it in all directions.

As we talked, we made our way beneath the dark arches of the forest. For two hours, we explored it in every direction.

Chance rewarded our search for eatable vegetables, and one of the most useful products of the tropical zones furnished us with precious food that we missed on board. I would speak of the bread-fruit tree, very abundant in the island of Gilboa; and I remarked chiefly the variety destitute of seeds, which bears in Malaya the name of “rima.”

By chance, we found edible plants in our search. One of the most useful tropical plants provided us with precious food we had missed on board. It was the breadfruit tree, which grew abundantly on the island of Gilboa. I especially noticed the seedless variety, known in Malaya as “rima.”

Ned Land knew these fruits well. He had already eaten many during his numerous voyages, and he knew how to prepare the eatable substance. Moreover, the sight of them excited him, and he could contain himself no longer.

Ned Land knew these fruits well. He had eaten many of them on his numerous voyages, and he knew how to prepare the edible part. The sight of them excited him, and he could no longer contain himself.

“Master,” he said, “I shall die if I do not taste a little of this bread-fruit pie.”

“Master,” he said, “I'll die if I don't get a taste of this breadfruit pie.”

“Taste it, friend Ned—taste it as you want. We are here to make experiments—make them.”

“Taste it, Ned. Taste it however you like. We are here to experiment, so go ahead.”

“It won’t take long,” said the Canadian.

And, provided with a lentil, he lighted a fire of dead wood that crackled joyously. During this time, Conseil and I chose the best fruits of the bread-fruit. Some had not then attained a sufficient degree of maturity; and their thick skin covered a white but rather fibrous pulp. Others, the greater number yellow and gelatinous, waited only to be picked.

With a lens, he lit a fire of dead wood that crackled merrily. Meanwhile, Conseil and I chose the best breadfruits. Some were not yet ripe enough. Their thick skins covered white but rather fibrous pulp. Most of the others were yellow and jellylike, ready to be picked.

These fruits enclosed no kernel. Conseil brought a dozen to Ned Land, who placed them on a coal fire, after having cut them in thick slices, and while doing this repeating:

These fruits had no kernels. Conseil brought a dozen to Ned Land, who cut them into thick slices and placed them on a coal fire. As he worked, he kept repeating:

“You will see, master, how good this bread is. More so when one has been deprived of it so long. It is not even bread,” added he, “but a delicate pastry. You have eaten none, master?”

“You’ll see how good this bread is, master. It tastes even better when you’ve gone without it for so long. It isn’t even bread,” he added, “but a delicate pastry. You haven’t eaten any, master?”

“No, Ned.”

“Very well, prepare yourself for a juicy thing. If you do not come for more, I am no longer the king of harpooners.”

“All right, get ready for something juicy. If you don’t come back for more, I’m no longer the king of harpooners.”

After some minutes, the part of the fruits that was exposed to the fire was completely roasted. The interior looked like a white pasty, a sort of soft crumb, the flavour of which was like that of an artichoke.

After a few minutes, the parts of the fruit exposed to the fire were completely roasted. Inside, the fruit looked like white paste, with a soft, crumb-like texture. It tasted like artichoke.

It must be confessed this bread was excellent, and I ate of it with great relish.

I have to admit, the bread was excellent, and I enjoyed eating it.

“What time is it now?” asked the Canadian.

“Two o’clock at least,” replied Conseil.

“At least two o’clock,” Conseil replied.

“How time flies on firm ground!” sighed Ned Land.

“How time flies on land!” sighed Ned Land.

“Let us be off,” replied Conseil.

“Let's go,” replied Conseil.

We returned through the forest, and completed our collection by a raid upon the cabbage-palms, that we gathered from the tops of the trees, little beans that I recognised as the “abrou” of the Malays, and yams of a superior quality.

We returned through the forest and completed our collection by gathering cabbage palms from the tops of the trees. We also gathered little beans that I recognized as the “abrou” of the Malays, and yams of excellent quality.

We were loaded when we reached the boat. But Ned Land did not find his provisions sufficient. Fate, however, favoured us. Just as we were pushing off, he perceived several trees, from twenty-five to thirty feet high, a species of palm-tree.

We were carrying plenty when we reached the boat. But Ned Land did not think we had enough provisions. Luckily, fate was on our side. Just as we were pushing off, he spotted several palm trees, each twenty-five to thirty feet tall.

At last, at five o’clock in the evening, loaded with our riches, we quitted the shore, and half an hour after we hailed the Nautilus. No one appeared on our arrival. The enormous iron-plated cylinder seemed deserted. The provisions embarked, I descended to my chamber, and after supper slept soundly.

At last, at five in the evening, we left the shore, loaded with our riches. Half an hour later, we hailed the Nautilus. No one appeared when we arrived. The enormous iron-plated cylinder seemed deserted. Once the provisions were aboard, I went down to my cabin. After supper, I slept soundly.

The next day, 6th January, nothing new on board. Not a sound inside, not a sign of life. The boat rested along the edge, in the same place in which we had left it. We resolved to return to the island. Ned Land hoped to be more fortunate than on the day before with regard to the hunt, and wished to visit another part of the forest.

The next day, January 6, nothing had changed on board. There was no sound inside, no sign of life. The boat lay at the edge, where we had left it. We decided to return to the island. Ned Land hoped to have better luck hunting than he had the day before. He wanted to visit another part of the forest.

At dawn we set off. The boat, carried on by the waves that flowed to shore, reached the island in a few minutes.

At dawn we set off. The waves carried the boat toward shore, and we reached the island in a few minutes.

We landed, and, thinking that it was better to give in to the Canadian, we followed Ned Land, whose long limbs threatened to distance us. He wound up the coast towards the west: then, fording some torrents, he gained the high plain that was bordered with admirable forests. Some kingfishers were rambling along the water-courses, but they would not let themselves be approached. Their circumspection proved to me that these birds knew what to expect from bipeds of our species, and I concluded that, if the island was not inhabited, at least human beings occasionally frequented it.

We landed, and, deciding it was better to give in to the Canadian, we followed Ned Land. His long strides threatened to leave us behind. He followed the coast westward, then waded across several streams. He reached a high plain bordered by magnificent forests. Some kingfishers were wandering along the streams, but they would not let us get close. Their caution showed me that these birds knew what to expect from humans. I concluded that, even if the island was uninhabited, people at least visited it occasionally.

After crossing a rather large prairie, we arrived at the skirts of a little wood that was enlivened by the songs and flight of a large number of birds.

After crossing a fairly large prairie, we reached the edge of a small wood. Many birds filled it with song and flight.

“There are only birds,” said Conseil.

“But they are eatable,” replied the harpooner.

“But you can eat them,” replied the harpooner.

“I do not agree with you, friend Ned, for I see only parrots there.”

“I disagree with you, my friend Ned, because I only see parrots there.”

“Friend Conseil,” said Ned, gravely, “the parrot is like pheasant to those who have nothing else.”

“Friend Conseil,” Ned said seriously, “parrot is like pheasant to people who have nothing else to eat.”

“And,” I added, “this bird, suitably prepared, is worth knife and fork.”

“And,” I added, “this bird is worth eating if it's properly prepared.”

Indeed, under the thick foliage of this wood, a world of parrots were flying from branch to branch, only needing a careful education to speak the human language. For the moment, they were chattering with parrots of all colours, and grave cockatoos, who seemed to meditate upon some philosophical problem, whilst brilliant red lories passed like a piece of bunting carried away by the breeze, papuans, with the finest azure colours, and in all a variety of winged things most charming to behold, but few eatable.

Indeed, beneath the thick leaves of the wood, countless parrots flew from branch to branch. They needed only careful training to speak human language. For now, they chattered with parrots of every color and solemn cockatoos. The cockatoos seemed to be pondering some philosophical problem. Brilliant red lories passed like strips of bunting carried by the breeze, along with papuans of the finest azure. In all, there was a variety of birds that were charming to see, but few were good to eat.

However, a bird peculiar to these lands, and which has never passed the limits of the Arrow and Papuan islands, was wanting in this collection. But fortune reserved it for me before long.

However, one bird native to these lands was missing from the collection. It has never been found beyond the Arrow and Papuan islands. But fortune soon brought it to me.

After passing through a moderately thick copse, we found a plain obstructed with bushes. I saw then those magnificent birds, the disposition of whose long feathers obliges them to fly against the wind. Their undulating flight, graceful aerial curves, and the shading of their colours, attracted and charmed one’s looks. I had no trouble in recognising them.

After passing through a fairly thick grove, we found a plain covered with bushes. There I saw those magnificent birds, whose long feathers forced them to fly against the wind. Their swooping flight, graceful curves in the air, and shades of color drew and delighted the eye. I recognized them at once.

“Birds of paradise!” I exclaimed.

The Malays, who carry on a great trade in these birds with the Chinese, have several means that we could not employ for taking them. Sometimes they put snares on the top of high trees that the birds of paradise prefer to frequent. Sometimes they catch them with a viscous birdlime that paralyses their movements. They even go so far as to poison the fountains that the birds generally drink from. But we were obliged to fire at them during flight, which gave us few chances to bring them down; and, indeed, we vainly exhausted one half our ammunition.

The Malays trade large numbers of these birds with the Chinese. They have several ways of catching them that we could not use. Sometimes they set snares in the tops of tall trees where birds of paradise like to gather. Sometimes they catch them with sticky birdlime that prevents them from moving. They even poison the springs the birds usually drink from. But we had to shoot at them in flight, which gave us few chances to bring them down. Indeed, we used up half our ammunition without success.

About eleven o’clock in the morning, the first range of mountains that form the centre of the island was traversed, and we had killed nothing. Hunger drove us on. The hunters had relied on the products of the chase, and they were wrong. Happily Conseil, to his great surprise, made a double shot and secured breakfast. He brought down a white pigeon and a wood-pigeon, which, cleverly plucked and suspended from a skewer, was roasted before a red fire of dead wood. While these interesting birds were cooking, Ned prepared the fruit of the bread-tree. Then the wood-pigeons were devoured to the bones, and declared excellent. The nutmeg, with which they are in the habit of stuffing their crops, flavours their flesh and renders it delicious eating.

Around eleven in the morning, we crossed the first mountain range in the center of the island. We had killed nothing, and hunger drove us on. The hunters had counted on eating what they caught, but they had been wrong. Fortunately, Conseil, much to his surprise, made a double shot and secured our breakfast. He brought down a white pigeon and a wood pigeon. We skillfully plucked them, hung them on a skewer, and roasted them over a glowing fire of dead wood. While these interesting birds cooked, Ned prepared the fruit of the breadfruit tree. Then we ate the pigeons down to the bones and declared them excellent. The nutmeg they habitually stuff into their crops flavors their flesh and makes it delicious.

“Now, Ned, what do you miss now?”

“Now, Ned, what do you miss?”

“Some four-footed game, M. Aronnax. All these pigeons are only side-dishes and trifles; and until I have killed an animal with cutlets I shall not be content.”

“Some four-legged game, M. Aronnax. All these pigeons are just side dishes and snacks. I won't be satisfied until I've killed an animal I can get cutlets from.”

“Nor I, Ned, if I do not catch a bird of paradise.”

“Neither will I, Ned, if I don't catch a bird of paradise.”

“Let us continue hunting,” replied Conseil. “Let us go towards the sea. We have arrived at the first declivities of the mountains, and I think we had better regain the region of forests.”

“Let’s keep hunting,” replied Conseil. “Let’s head toward the sea. We’ve reached the lower slopes of the mountains, and I think we should return to the forests.”

That was sensible advice, and was followed out. After walking for one hour we had attained a forest of sago-trees. Some inoffensive serpents glided away from us. The birds of paradise fled at our approach, and truly I despaired of getting near one when Conseil, who was walking in front, suddenly bent down, uttered a triumphal cry, and came back to me bringing a magnificent specimen.

That was sensible advice, and we followed it. After walking for an hour, we reached a forest of sago trees. Some harmless snakes slithered away from us. The birds of paradise fled as we approached, and I had truly given up hope of getting near one. Then Conseil, who was walking ahead, suddenly bent down and gave a cry of triumph. He came back to me with a magnificent specimen.

“Ah! bravo, Conseil!”

“Ah! Well done, Conseil!”

“Master is very good.”

“No, my boy; you have made an excellent stroke. Take one of these living birds, and carry it in your hand.”

“No, my boy, you’ve made an excellent catch. Take one of these live birds and carry it in your hand.”

“If master will examine it, he will see that I have not deserved great merit.”

“If master examines it, he will see that I don’t deserve much credit.”

“Why, Conseil?”

“Because this bird is as drunk as a quail.”

“Drunk!”

“Yes, sir; drunk with the nutmegs that it devoured under the nutmeg-tree, under which I found it. See, friend Ned, see the monstrous effects of intemperance!”

“Yes, sir. It’s drunk from the nutmegs it ate under the nutmeg tree where I found it. Look, Ned, my friend, at the monstrous effects of drinking too much!”

“By Jove!” exclaimed the Canadian, “because I have drunk gin for two months, you must needs reproach me!”

“Good grief!” exclaimed the Canadian. “You have to scold me because I've been drinking gin for two months!”

However, I examined the curious bird. Conseil was right. The bird, drunk with the juice, was quite powerless. It could not fly; it could hardly walk.

However, I examined the strange bird. Conseil was right. The bird was drunk on the juice and completely helpless. It could not fly and could hardly walk.

This bird belonged to the most beautiful of the eight species that are found in Papua and in the neighbouring islands. It was the “large emerald bird, the most rare kind.” It measured three feet in length. Its head was comparatively small, its eyes placed near the opening of the beak, and also small. But the shades of colour were beautiful, having a yellow beak, brown feet and claws, nut-coloured wings with purple tips, pale yellow at the back of the neck and head, and emerald colour at the throat, chestnut on the breast and belly. Two horned, downy nets rose from below the tail, that prolonged the long light feathers of admirable fineness, and they completed the whole of this marvellous bird, that the natives have poetically named the “bird of the sun.”

This bird belonged to the most beautiful of the eight species found in Papua and the neighboring islands. It was the “large emerald bird, the rarest kind.” It measured three feet long. Its head was relatively small, and its small eyes were set near the opening of its beak. But its colors were beautiful. It had a yellow beak, brown feet and claws, and nut-colored wings with purple tips. The back of its neck and head was pale yellow, its throat emerald, and its breast and belly chestnut. Two horned, downy nets rose from beneath its tail, extending its long, light feathers of remarkable fineness. They completed the appearance of this marvelous bird, which the natives have poetically named the “bird of the sun.”

But if my wishes were satisfied by the possession of the bird of paradise, the Canadian’s were not yet. Happily, about two o’clock, Ned Land brought down a magnificent hog; from the brood of those the natives call “bari-outang.” The animal came in time for us to procure real quadruped meat, and he was well received. Ned Land was very proud of his shot. The hog, hit by the electric ball, fell stone dead. The Canadian skinned and cleaned it properly, after having taken half a dozen cutlets, destined to furnish us with a grilled repast in the evening. Then the hunt was resumed, which was still more marked by Ned and Conseil’s exploits.

The bird of paradise had satisfied my wishes, but the Canadian’s were still unfulfilled. Fortunately, around two o’clock, Ned Land shot a magnificent hog, one of the animals the natives call “bari-outang.” The hog came just in time to provide us with real meat from a four-legged animal, and we welcomed it. Ned Land was very proud of his shot. The electric ball had killed the hog on the spot. The Canadian cut half a dozen chops for us to grill that evening. Then he properly skinned and cleaned the hog. We resumed the hunt, which brought more of Ned and Conseil’s exploits.

Indeed, the two friends, beating the bushes, roused a herd of kangaroos that fled and bounded along on their elastic paws. But these animals did not take to flight so rapidly but what the electric capsule could stop their course.

The two friends beat the bushes and startled a herd of kangaroos, which bounded away on their springy paws. But the kangaroos did not flee fast enough to escape the electric capsule.

“Ah, Professor!” cried Ned Land, who was carried away by the delights of the chase, “what excellent game, and stewed, too! What a supply for the Nautilus! Two! three! five down! And to think that we shall eat that flesh, and that the idiots on board shall not have a crumb!”

“Ah, Professor!” cried Ned Land, caught up in the excitement of the hunt. “What excellent game, and already stewed, too! What a supply for the Nautilus! Two! Three! Five down! And just think, we’ll eat the meat, and the idiots on board won’t get a crumb!”

I think that, in the excess of his joy, the Canadian, if he had not talked so much, would have killed them all. But he contented himself with a single dozen of these interesting marsupians. These animals were small. They were a species of those “kangaroo rabbitss” that live habitually in the hollows of trees, and whose speed is extreme; but they are moderately fat, and furnish, at least, estimable food. We were very satisfied with the results of the hunt. Happy Ned proposed to return to this enchanting island the next day, for he wished to depopulate it of all the eatable quadrupeds. But he had reckoned without his host.

I think the Canadian was so overjoyed that, if he had not talked so much, he would have killed them all. But he settled for just a dozen of these interesting marsupials. They were small animals, a species of “kangaroo rabbits” that usually live in tree hollows and move extremely fast. But they are moderately fat and make, at least, good food. We were very satisfied with the results of the hunt. The happy Ned proposed returning to this enchanting island the next day. He wanted to rid it of every edible four-legged animal. But he had not reckoned with his host.

At six o’clock in the evening we had regained the shore; our boat was moored to the usual place. The Nautilus, like a long rock, emerged from the waves two miles from the beach. Ned Land, without waiting, occupied himself about the important dinner business. He understood all about cooking well. The “bari-outang,” grilled on the coals, soon scented the air with a delicious odour.

By six o’clock that evening, we were back on shore. Our boat was moored in its usual place. The Nautilus rose from the waves two miles from the beach, looking like a long rock. Ned Land wasted no time attending to the important business of dinner. He knew all about cooking well. Soon the “bari-outang” was grilling over the coals, filling the air with a delicious smell.

Indeed, the dinner was excellent. Two wood-pigeons completed this extraordinary menu. The sago pasty, the artocarpus bread, some mangoes, half a dozen pineapples, and the liquor fermented from some coco-nuts, overjoyed us. I even think that my worthy companions’ ideas had not all the plainness desirable.

The dinner was indeed excellent. Two wood pigeons completed the extraordinary menu. The sago pastry, breadfruit bread, mangoes, half a dozen pineapples, and fermented coconut liquor delighted us. I even think my good companions’ thoughts were not as clear as they might have been.

“Suppose we do not return to the Nautilus this evening?” said Conseil.

“What if we don't return to the Nautilus this evening?” said Conseil.

“Suppose we never return?” added Ned Land.

“What if we never return?” added Ned Land.

Just then a stone fell at our feet and cut short the harpooner’s proposition.

Just then, a stone fell at our feet and interrupted the harpooner’s suggestion.