SFworld 版 (精华区)
发信人: champaign (原野), 信区: SFworld
标 题: Under the sea 6
发信站: 哈工大紫丁香 (Thu Oct 21 21:25:55 1999), 转信
发信人: Mojun (寻找mili的mickey), 信区: SFworld
标 题: Under the sea 6
发信站: BBS 水木清华站 (Wed Feb 25 15:24:49 1998)
CHAPTER VI.
AT FULL STEAM.
AT THIS cry the whole ship's crew hurried toward the harpooner:
commander, officers, masters, sailors, cabin boys; even the
engineers left their engines, and the stokers their furnaces.
The order to stop her had been given, and the frigate now simply
went on by her own momentum. The darkness was then profound, and
however good the Canadian's eyes were, I asked myself how he had
managed to see, and what he had been able to see. My heart beat as
if it would break. But Ned Land was not mistaken, and we all perceived
the object he pointed to. At two cables' lengths from the Abraham
Lincoln, on the starboard quarter, the sea seemed to be illuminated
all over. It was not a mere phosphoric phenomenon. The monster emerged
some fathoms from the water, and then threw out that very intense
but inexplicable light mentioned in the report of several captains.
This magnificent irradiation must have been produced by an agent of
great shining power. The luminous part traced on the sea an immense
oval, much elongated, the center of which condensed a burning heat,
whose overpowering brilliancy died out by successive gradations.
"It is only an agglomeration of phosphoric particles," cried one
of the officers.
"No, Sir, certainly not," I replied. "Never did pholades or salpae
produce such a powerful light. That brightness is of an essentially
electrical nature. Besides, see, see! it moves; it is moving
forward, backward, it is darting toward us!"
A general cry arose from the frigate.
"Silence!" said the captain; "up with the helm, reverse the
engines."
The steam was shut off, and the Abraham Lincoln, beating to
port, described a semicircle.
"Right the helm, go ahead," cried the captain.
These orders were executed, and the frigate moved rapidly from the
burning light.
I was mistaken. She tried to sheer off, but the supernatural
animal approached with a velocity double her own.
We gasped for breath. Stupefaction more than fear made us dumb and
motionless. The animal gained on us, sporting with the waves. It
made the round of the frigate, which was then making fourteen
knots!- and enveloped it with its electric rings like luminous dust.
Then it moved away two or three miles, leaving a phosphorescent track,
like those volumes of steam that the express trains leave behind.
All at once from the dark line of the horizon whither it retired to
gain its momentum, the monster rushed suddenly toward the Abraham
Lincoln with alarming rapidity, stopped suddenly about twenty feet
from the hull, and died out- not diving under the water, for its
brilliancy did not abate- but suddenly, and as if the source of this
brilliant emanation was exhausted. Then it reappeared on the other
side of the vessel, as if it had turned and slid under the hull. Any
moment a collision might have occurred which would have been fatal
to us. However, I was astonished at the maneuvers of the frigate.
She fled and did not attack.
On the captain's face, generally so impassive, was an expression
of unaccountable astonishment.
"Mr. Aronnax," he said, "I do not know with what formidable
being I have to deal, and I will not imprudently risk my frigate in
the midst of this darkness. Besides, how attack this unknown thing,
how defend oneself from it? Wait for daylight, and the scene will
change."
"You have no further doubt, Captain, of the nature of the animal?"
"No, Sir; it is evidently a gigantic narwhal, and an electric
one."
"Perhaps," added I, "one can only approach it with a gymnotus or a
torpedo."
"Undoubtedly," replied the captain, "if it possesses such dreadful
power, it is the most terrible animal that ever was created. That is
why, Sir, I must be on my guard."
The crew were on their feet all night. No one thought of sleep.
The Abraham Lincoln, not being able to struggle with such velocity,
had moderated its pace, and sailed at half speed. For its part, the
narwhal, imitating the frigate, let the waves rock it at will, and
seemed decided not to leave the scene of the struggle. Toward
midnight, however, it disappeared, or, to use a more appropriate term,
it "died out" like a large glowworm. Had it fled? One could only fear,
not hope it. But at seven minutes to one o'clock in the morning a
deafening whistling was heard, like that produced by a body of water
rushing with great violence.
The captain, Ned Land, and I, were then on the poop, eagerly
peering through the profound darkness.
"Ned Land," asked the commander, "you have often heard the roaring
of whales?"
"Often, Sir, but never such whales the sight of which brought me
in two thousand dollars. If I can only approach within four harpoon
lengths of it!"
"But to approach it," said the commander, "I ought to put a whaler
at your disposal?"
"Certainly, Sir."
"That will be trifling with the lives of my men."
"And mine too," simply said the harpooner.
Toward two o'clock in the morning, the burning light reappeared,
not less intense, about five miles to windward of the Abraham Lincoln.
Notwithstanding the distance, and the noise of the wind and sea, one
heard distinctly the loud strokes of the animal's tail, and even its
panting breath. It seemed that, at the moment that the enormous
narwhal had come to take breath at the surface of the water, the air
was engulfed in its lungs, like the steam in the vast cylinders of a
machine of two-thousand horse power.
"Hum!" thought I, "a whale with the strength of a cavalry regiment
would be a pretty whale!"
We were on the qui vive till daylight, and prepared for the
combat. The fishing implements were laid along the hammock nettings.
The second lieutenant loaded the blunderbusses, which could throw
harpoons to the distance of a mile, and long duck guns, with explosive
bullets, which inflicted mortal wounds even to the most terrible
animals. Ned Land contented himself with sharpening his harpoon- a
terrible weapon in his hands.
At six o'clock, day began to break; and with the first glimmer
of light, the electric light of the narwhal disappeared. At seven
o'clock the day was sufficiently advanced, but a very thick sea fog
obscured our view, and the best spyglasses could not pierce it. That
caused disappointment and anger.
I climbed the mizzenmast. Some officers were already perched on
the mastheads. At eight o'clock the fog lay heavily on the waves,
and its thick scrolls rose little by little. The horizon grew wider
and clearer at the same time. Suddenly, just as on the day before, Ned
Land's voice was heard:
"The thing itself on the port quarter!" cried the harpooner.
Every eye was turned toward the point indicated. There, a mile and
a half from the frigate, a long blackish body emerged a yard above the
waves. Its tail, violently agitated, produced a considerable eddy.
Never did a caudal appendage beat the sea with such violence. An
immense track, of a dazzling whiteness, marked the passage of the
animal, and described a long curve.
The frigate approached the cetacean. I examined it thoroughly.
The reports of the Shannon and of the Helvetia had rather
exaggerated its size, and I estimated its length at only two hundred
fifty feet. As to its dimensions, I could only conjecture them to be
admirably proportioned. While I watched this phenomenon, two jets of
steam and water were ejected from its vents, and rose to the height of
one hundred twenty feet, thus I ascertained its way of breathing. I
concluded definitely that it belonged to the vertebrate branch,
class mammalia.
The crew waited impatiently for their chief's orders. The
latter, after having observed the animal attentively, called the
engineer. The engineer ran to him.
"Sir," said the commander, "you have steam up?"
"Yes, Sir," answered the engineer.
"Well, make up your fires and put on all steam."
Three hurrahs greeted this order. The time for the struggle had
arrived. Some moments after, the two funnels of the frigate vomited
torrents of black smoke, and the bridge quaked under the trembling
of the boilers.
The Abraham Lincoln, propelled by her powerful screw, went
straight at the animal. The latter allowed it to come within half a
cable's length; then, as if disdaining to dive, it took a little turn,
and stopped a short distance off.
This pursuit lasted nearly three quarters of an hour, without
the frigate gaining two yards on the cetacean. It was quite evident
that at that rate we should never come up with it.
"Well, Mr. Land," asked the captain, "do you advise me to put
the boats out to sea?"
"No, Sir," replied Ned Land; "because we shall not take that beast
easily."
"What shall we do then?"
"Put on more steam if you can, Sir. With your leave, I mean to
post myself under the bowsprit, and if we get within harpooning
distance, I shall throw my harpoon."
"Go, Ned," said the captain. "Engineer, put on more pressure."
Ned Land went to his post. The fires were increased, the screw
revolved forty-three times a minute, and the steam poured out of the
valves. We heaved the log, and calculated that the Abraham Lincoln was
going at the rate of eighteen and a half miles an hour.
But the accursed animal swam, too, at the rate of eighteen and a
half miles.
For a whole hour, the frigate kept up this pace, without gaining
six feet. It was humiliating for one of the swiftest sailors in the
American navy. A stubborn anger seized the crew; the sailors abused
the monster, who, as before, disdained to answer them; the captain
no longer contented himself with twisting his beard- he gnawed it.
The engineer was again called.
"You have turned full steam on?"
"Yes, Sir," replied the engineer.
The speed of the Abraham Lincoln increased. Its masts trembled
down to their stepping holes, and the clouds of smoke could hardly
find way out of the narrow funnels.
They heaved the log a second time.
"Well?" asked the captain of the man at the wheel.
"Nineteen miles and three tenths, Sir."
"Clap on more steam."
The engineer obeyed. The manometer showed ten degrees. But the
cetacean grew warm itself, no doubt; for, without straining itself, it
made nineteen and three tenths miles.
What a pursuit No, I cannot describe the emotion that vibrated
through me. Ned Land kept his post, harpoon in hand. Several times the
animal let us gain upon it. "We shall catch it! we shall catch it!"
cried the Canadian. But just as he was going, to strike, the
cetacean stole away with a rapidity that could not be estimated at
less than thirty miles an hour, and even during our maximum of
speed, it bullied the frigate, going round and round it. A cry of fury
broke from, everyone!
At noon we were no further advanced than at eight o'clock in the
morning.
The captain then decided to take more direct means.
"Ah!" said he, "that animal goes quicker than the Abraham Lincoln.
Very well we will see whether it will escape these conical bullets.
Send your men to the forecastle, Sir!"
The forecastle gun was immediately loaded and slewed round. But
the shot passed some feet above the cetacean, which was half a mile
off.
"Another more to the right," cried the commander, "and five
dollars to whoever will hit that infernal beast."
An old gunner with a gray beard- that I can see now- with steady
eye and grave face, went up to the gun and took a long aim. A loud
report was heard, with which were mingled the cheers of the crew.
The bullet did its work; it hit the animal, but not fatally,
and, sliding off the rounded surface, was lost in two miles depth of
sea.
The chase began again, and the captain, leaning toward me, said-
"I will pursue that beast till my frigate bursts up."
"Yes," answered I; "and you will be quite right to do it."
I wished the beast would exhaust itself, and not be insensible
to fatigue like a steam engine! But it was of no use. Hours passed,
without its showing any signs of exhaustion.
However, it must be said in praise of the Abraham Lincoln, that
she struggled on indefatigably. I cannot reckon the distance she
made under three hundred miles during this unlucky day, November
sixth. But night came on, and overshadowed the rough ocean.
Now I thought our expedition was at an end, and that we should
never again see the extraordinary animal. I was mistaken. At ten
minutes to eleven in the evening, the electric light reappeared
three miles to windward of the frigate, as pure, as intense as
during the preceding night.
The narwhal seemed motionless; perhaps, tired with its day's work,
it slept, letting itself float with the undulation of the waves. Now
was a chance of which the captain resolved to take advantage.
He gave his orders. The Abraham Lincoln kept up half steam, and
advanced. cautiously so as not to awake its adversary. It is no rare
thing to meet in the middle of the ocean whales so sound asleep that
they can be successfully attacked, and Ned Land had harpooned more
than one during its sleep. The Canadian went to take his place again
under the bowsprit.
The frigate approached noiselessly, stopped at two cables'
length from the animal, and following its track. No one breathed; a
deep silence reigned on the bridge. We were not a hundred feet from
the burning focus, the light of which increased and dazzled our eyes.
At this moment, leaning on the forecastle bulwark, I saw below
me Ned Land grappling the martingale in one hand, brandishing his
terrible harpoon in the other, scarcely twenty feet from the
motionless animal. Suddenly his arm straightened, and the harpoon
was thrown; I heard the sonorous stroke of the weapon, which seemed to
have struck a hard body. The electric light went out suddenly, and two
enormous waterspouts broke over the bridge of the frigate, rushing
like a torrent from stem to stern, overthrowing men, and breaking
the lashing of the spars. A fearful shock followed, and, thrown over
the rail without having time to stop myself, I fell into the sea.
--
我这样爱你到底对不对,
这问题问得我自己好累。
我宁愿流泪,也不愿意后悔
可是我最后注定还是要心碎
※ 来源:·BBS 水木清华站 bbs.net.tsinghua.edu.cn·[FROM: 166.111.91.81]
--
☆ 来源:.哈工大紫丁香 bbs.hit.edu.cn.[FROM: champaign.bbs@bbs.ne]
Powered by KBS BBS 2.0 (http://dev.kcn.cn)
页面执行时间:212.873毫秒