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发信人: champaign (原野), 信区: SFworld
标 题: Under the sea 35
发信站: 哈工大紫丁香 (Fri Oct 22 07:49:59 1999), 转信
发信人: Mojun (寻找mili的mickey), 信区: SFworld
标 题: Under the sea 35
发信站: BBS 水木清华站 (Sun Apr 5 16:05:59 1998) WWW-POST
CHAPTER XII.
CACHALOTS AND WHALES.
DURING the nights of March 13 and 14, the Nautilus returned to its
southerly course. I fancied that, when on a level with Cape Horn, he
would turn the helm westward, in order to beat the Pacific seas, and
so complete the tour of the world. He did nothing of the kind, but
continued on his way to the southern regions. Where was he going to?
to the pole? It was madness! I began to think that the captain's
temerity justified Ned Land's fears. For some time past the Canadian
had not spoken to me of his projects of flight; he was less
communicative, almost silent. I could see that this lengthened
imprisonment was weighing upon him, and I felt that rage was within
him. When he met the captain, his eyes lit up with suppressed anger;
and I feared that his natural violence would lead him into some
extreme. That day, March 14, Conseil and he came to me in my room. I
inquired the cause of their visit.
"A simple question to ask you, Sir," replied the Canadian.
"Speak, Ned."
"How many men are there on board the Nautilus, do you think?"
"I cannot tell, my friend."
"I should say that its working does not require a large crew."
"Certainly, under existing conditions, ten men, at the most, ought
to be enough."
"Well, why should there be any more?"
"Why?" I replied, looking fixedly at Ned Land, whose meaning was
easy to guess. "Because," I added, "if my surmises are correct, and if
I have well understood the captain's existence, the Nautilus is not
only a vessel; it is also a place of refuge for those who, like its
commander, have broken every tie upon earth."
"Perhaps so," said Conseil; "but, in any case, the Nautilus can
only contain a certain number of men. Could not you, sir, estimate
their maximum?"
"How, Conseil?"
"By calculation; given the size of the vessel, which you know,
sir, and consequently, the quantity of air it contains, knowing also
how much each man expends at a breath, and comparing these results
with the fact that the Nautilus is obliged to go to the surface
every twenty-four hours."
Conseil had not finished the sentence before I saw what he was
driving at.
"I understand," said I; "but that calculation, though simple
enough, can give but a very uncertain result."
"Never mind," said Ned Land, urgently.
"Here it is, then," said I. "In one hour each man consumes the
oxygen contained in twenty gallons of air; and in twenty-four, that
contained in 480 gallons. We must, therefore, find how many times
480 gallons of air the Nautilus contains."
"Just so," said Conseil.
"Or," I continued, "the size of the Nautilus being 1,500 tons; and
one ton holding 200 gallons, it contains 300,000 gallons of air,
which, divided by 480, gives a quotient of 625. Which means to say,
strictly speaking, that the air contained in the Nautilus would
suffice for 625 men for twenty-four hours."
"Six hundred twenty-five!" repeated Ned.
"But remember, that all of us, passengers, sailors, and officers
included, would not form a tenth part of that number."
"Still too many for three men," murmured Conseil.
The Canadian shook his head, passed his hand across his
forehead, and left the room without answering.
"Will you allow me to make one observation, Sir?" said Conseil.
"Poor Ned is longing for everything that he cannot have. His past life
is always present to him; everything that we are forbidden he regrets.
His head is full of old recollections. And we must understand him.
What had he to do here? Nothing; he is not learned like you, Sir;
and has not the same taste for the beauties of the sea that we have.
He would risk everything to be able to go once more into a tavern in
his own country."
Certainly the monotony on board must seem intolerable to the
Canadian, accustomed as he was to a life of liberty and activity.
Events were rare which could rouse him to any show of spirit; but that
day an event did happen which recalled the bright days of the
harpooner. About eleven in the morning, being on the surface of the
ocean, the Nautilus fell in with a troop of whales- an encounter which
did not astonish me, knowing that these creatures hunted to the death,
had taken refuge in high latitudes.
We were seated on the platform, with a quiet sea. The month of
October in those latitudes gave us some lovely autumnal days. It was
the Canadian- he could not be mistaken- who signaled a whale on the
eastern horizon. Looking attentively one might see its black back rise
and fall with the waves five miles from the Nautilus.
"Ah!" exclaimed Ned Land, "if I was on board a whaler now, such
a meeting would give me pleasure. It is one of large size. See with
what strength its blowholes throw up columns of air and steam!
Confound it, why am I bound to these steel plates?"
"What, Ned," said I, "you have not forgotten your old ideas of
fishing?"
"Can a whaler ever forget his old trade, Sir? Can he ever tire
of the emotions caused by such a chase?"
"You have never fished in these seas, Ned?"
"Never, Sir; in the northern only, and as much in Bering as in
Davis Straits."
"Then the southern whale is still unknown to you. It is the
Greenland whale you have hunted up to this time, and that would not
risk passing through the warm waters of the equator. Whales are.
localized, according to their kinds, in certain seas which they
never leave. And if one of these creatures went from Bering to Davis
Straits, it must be simply because there is a passage from one sea
to the other, either on the American or the Asiatic side."
"In that case, as I have never fished in these seas, I do not know
the kind of whale frequenting them."
"I have told you, Ned."
"A greater reason for making their acquaintance," said Conseil.
"Look! look!" exclaimed the Canadian, "they approach; they
aggravate me; they know that I cannot get at them!"
Ned stamped his feet. His hand trembled, as he grasped an
imaginary harpoon.
"Are these cetacea as large as those of the northern seas?"
asked he.
"Very nearly, Ned."
"Because I have seen large whales, Sir, whales measuring a hundred
feet. I have even been told that those of Hullamoch and Umgallick,
of the Aleutian Islands, are sometimes a hundred fifty feet long."
"That seems to me exaggeration. These creatures are only
balaenopterons, provided with dorsal fins; and, like the cachalots,
are generally much smaller than the Greenland whale."
"Ah!" exclaimed the Canadian, whose eyes had never left the ocean,
"they are coming nearer; they are in the same water as the Nautilus!"
Then, returning to the conversation, he said:
"You spoke of the cachalot as a small creature. I have heard of
gigantic ones. They are intelligent cetacea. It is said of some that
they cover themselves with seaweed and fucus, and then are taken for
islands. People encamp upon them, and settle there; light a fire"-
"And build houses," said Conseil.
"Yes, joker," said Ned Land. "And one fine day the creature
plunges, carrying with it all the inhabitants to the bottom of the
sea."
"Something like the travels of Sinbad the Sailor," I replied,
laughing.
"Ah!" suddenly exclaimed Ned Land, "it is not one whale; there are
ten- there are twenty- it is a whole troop! And I not able to do
anything! hands and feet tied!"
"But, friend Ned," said Conseil, "why do you not ask Captain
Nemo's permission to chase them?"
Conseil had not finished his sentence when Ned Land lowered
himself through the panel to seek the captain. A few minutes afterward
the two appeared together on the platform.
Captain Nemo watched the troop of cetacea playing on the waters
about a mile from the Nautilus.
"They are southern whales," said he; "there goes the fortune of
a whole fleet of whalers."
"Well, sir," asked the Canadian, "can I not chase them, if only to
remind me of my old trade of harpooner?"
"And to what purpose?" replied Captain Nemo; "only to destroy!
We have nothing to do with whale oil on board."
"But, Sir," continued the Canadian, "in the Red Sea you allowed us
to follow the dugong."
"Then it was to procure fresh meat for my crew. Here it would be
killing for killing's sake. I know that is a privilege reserved for
men, but I do not approve of such murderous pastime. In destroying the
southern whale (like the Greenland whale, an inoffensive creature),
your traders do a culpable action, Master Land. They have already
depopulated the whole of Baffin's Bay, and are annihilating a class of
useful animals. Leave the unfortunate cetacea alone. They have
plenty of natural enemies, cachalots, swordfish, and sawfish,
without your troubling them."
The captain was right. The barbarous and inconsiderate greed of
these fishermen will one day cause the disappearance of the last whale
in the ocean. Ned Land whistled "Yankee-Doodle" between his teeth,
thrust his hands into his pockets, and turned his back upon us. But
Captain Nemo watched the troop of cetacea, and, addressing me, said:
"I was right in saying that whales had natural enemies enough,
without counting man. These will have plenty to do before long. Do you
see, M. Aronnax, about eight miles to leeward, those blackish moving
points?"
"Yes, Captain," I replied.
"Those are cachalots- terrible animals, which I have sometimes met
in troops of two or three hundred. As to those, they are cruel
mischievous creatures; they would be right in exterminating them."
The Canadian turned quickly at the last words.
"Well, Captain," said he, "it is still time, in the interest of
the whales."
"It is useless to expose oneself, Professor. The Nautilus will
disperse them. It is armed with a steel spur as good as Master
Land's harpoon, I imagine."
The Canadian did not put himself out enough to shrug his
shoulders. Attack cetacea with blows of a spur! Who had ever heard
of such a thing?
"Wait, M. Aronnax," said Captain Nemo. "We will show you something
you have never yet seen. We have no pity for these ferocious
creatures. They are nothing but mouth and teeth."
Mouth and teeth! No one could better describe the macrocephalous
cachalot, which is sometimes more than seventy-five feet long. Its
enormous head occupies one-third of its entire body. Better armed than
the whale, whose upper jaw is furnished only with whalebone, it is
supplied with twenty-five large tusks, about eight inches long,
cylindrical and conical at the top, each weighing two pounds. It is in
the upper part of this enormous head, in great cavities divided by
cartilages, that is to be found from six to eight hundred pounds of
that precious oil called spermaceti. The cachalot is a disagreeable
creature, more tadpole than fish, according to Fredol's description.
It is badly formed, the whole of its left side being (if we may say
it) a "failure," and being only able to see with its right eye.
But the formidable troop was nearing us. They had seen the
whales and were preparing to attack them. One could judge beforehand
that the cachalots would be victorious, not only because they were
better built for attack than their inoffensive adversaries, but also
because they could remain longer under water without coming to the
surface. There was only just time to go to the help of the whales. The
Nautilus went under water. Conseil, Ned Land, and I took our places
before the window in the saloon, and Captain Nemo joined the pilot
in his cage to work his apparatus as an engine of destruction. Soon
I felt the beatings of the screw quicken, and our speed increased.
The battle between the cachalots and the whales had already
begun when the Nautilus arrived. They, did not at first show any
fear at the sight of this new monster joining in the conflict. But
they soon had to guard against its blows. What a battle! The
Nautilus was nothing but a formidable harpoon, brandished by the
hand of its captain. It hurled itself against the fleshy mass, passing
through from one part to the other, leaving behind it two quivering
halves of the animal. It could not feel the formidable blows from
their tails upon its sides, nor the shock which it produced itself,
much more. One cachalot killed, it ran at the next, tacked on the spot
that it might not miss its prey, going forward and backward, answering
to its helm, plunging when the cetacean dived into the deep waters,
coming up with it when it returned to the surface, striking it front
or sideways, cutting or tearing in all directions, and at any pace,
piercing it with its terrible spur. What carnage! What a noise on
the surface of the waves! What sharp hissing, and what snorting
peculiar to these enraged animals! In the midst of these waters,
generally so peaceful, their tails made perfect billows.
For one hour this wholesale massacre continued, from which the
cachalots could not escape. Several times ten or twelve united tried
to crush the Nautilus by their weight. From the window we could see
their enormous mouths, studded with tusks, and their formidable
eyes. Ned Land could not contain himself, he threatened and swore at
them. We could feel them clinging to our vessel like dogs worrying a
wild boar in a copse. But the Nautilus, working its screw, carried
them here and there, or to the upper levels of the ocean, without
caring for their enormous weight, nor the powerful strain on the
vessel. At length, the mass of cachalots broke up, the waves became
quiet, and I felt that we were rising to the surface. The panel
opened, and we hurried on to the platform. The sea was covered with
mutilated bodies. A formidable explosion could not have divided and
torn this fleshy mass with more violence. We were floating amid
gigantic bodies, bluish on the back and white underneath, covered with
enormous protuberances. Some terrified cachalots were flying toward
the horizon. The waves were dyed red for several miles, and the
Nautilus floated in a sea of blood. Captain Nemo joined us.
"Well, Master Land?" said he.
"Well, Sir," replied the Canadian, whose enthusiasm had somewhat
calmed; "it is a terrible spectacle, certainly. But I am not a
butcher. I am a hunter, and I call this a butchery."
"It is a massacre of mischievous creatures," replied the
captain; "and the Nautilus is not a butcher's knife."
"I like my harpoon better," said the Canadian.
"Everyone to his own," answered the captain, looking fixedly at
Ned Land.
I feared he would commit some act of violence, which would end
in sad consequences. But his anger was turned by the sight of a
whale which the Nautilus had just come up with. The creature had not
quite escaped from the cachalot's teeth. I recognized the southern
whale by its flat head, which is entirely black. Anatomically, it is
distinguished from the white whale and the North Cape whale by the
seven cervical vertebrae, and it has two more ribs than its congeners.
The unfortunate cetacean was lying on its side, riddled with holes
from the bites, and quite dead. From its mutilated fin still hung a
young whale, which it could not save from the massacre. Its open mouth
let the water flow in and out, murmuring like the waves breaking on
the shore.
Captain Nemo steered close to the corpse of the creature. Two of
his men mounted its side, and I saw, not without surprise, that they
were drawing from its breasts all the milk which they contained,
that is to say, about two or three tons. The captain offered me a
cup of the milk, which was still warm. I could not help showing my
repugnance, to the drink; but he assured me that it was excellent, and
not to be distinguished from cow's milk. I tasted it, and was of his
opinion. It was a useful reserve to us, for in the shape of salt
butter or cheese it would form an agreeable variety from our
ordinary food. From that day I noticed with uneasiness that Ned Land's
ill will toward Captain Nemo increased, and I resolved to watch the
Canadian's gestures closely.
--
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
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