In a few moments we had put on our diving-dresses; they placed on our
backs the reservoirs, abundantly filled with air, but no electric lamps
were prepared. I called the Captain’s attention to the fact.
“They will be useless,” he replied.
I thought I had not heard aright, but I could not repeat my
observation, for the Captain’s head had already disappeared in its
metal case. I finished harnessing myself. I felt them put an
iron-pointed stick into my hand, and some minutes later, after going
through the usual form, we set foot on the bottom of the Atlantic at a
depth of 150 fathoms. Midnight was near. The waters were profoundly
dark, but Captain Nemo pointed out in the distance a reddish spot, a
sort of large light shining brilliantly about two miles from the
_Nautilus_. What this fire might be, what could feed it, why and how it
lit up the liquid mass, I could not say. In any case, it did light our
way, vaguely, it is true, but I soon accustomed myself to the peculiar
darkness, and I understood, under such circumstances, the uselessness
of the Ruhmkorff apparatus.
As we advanced, I heard a kind of pattering above my head. The noise
redoubling, sometimes producing a continual shower, I soon understood
the cause. It was rain falling violently, and crisping the surface of
the waves. Instinctively the thought flashed across my mind that I
should be wet through! By the water! in the midst of the water! I could
not help laughing at the odd idea. But, indeed, in the thick
diving-dress, the liquid element is no longer felt, and one only seems
to be in an atmosphere somewhat denser than the terrestrial atmosphere.
Nothing more.
After half an hour’s walk the soil became stony. Medusae, microscopic
crustacea, and pennatules lit it slightly with their phosphorescent
gleam. I caught a glimpse of pieces of stone covered with millions of
zoophytes and masses of sea weed. My feet often slipped upon this
sticky carpet of sea weed, and without my iron-tipped stick I should
have fallen more than once. In turning round, I could still see the
whitish lantern of the _Nautilus_ beginning to pale in the distance.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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