Captain Nemo then led me aft; and in passing before Ned’s and Conseil’s
cabin, I called my two companions, who followed immediately. We then
came to a kind of cell near the machinery-room, in which we were to put
on our walking-dress.
CHAPTER XV
A WALK ON THE BOTTOM OF THE SEA
This cell was, to speak correctly, the arsenal and wardrobe of the
_Nautilus_. A dozen diving apparatuses hung from the partition, waiting
our use.
Ned Land, on seeing them, showed evident repugnance to dress himself in
one.
“But, my worthy Ned, the forests of the Island of Crespo are nothing
but submarine forests.”
“Good!” said the disappointed harpooner, who saw his dreams of fresh
meat fade away. “And you, M. Aronnax, are you going to dress yourself
in those clothes?”
“There is no alternative, Master Ned.”
“As you please, sir,” replied the harpooner, shrugging his shoulders;
“but as for me, unless I am forced, I will never get into one.”
“No one will force you, Master Ned,” said Captain Nemo.
“Is Conseil going to risk it?” asked Ned.
“I follow my master wherever he goes,” replied Conseil.
At the Captain’s call two of the ship’s crew came to help us to dress
in these heavy and impervious clothes, made of india-rubber without
seam, and constructed expressly to resist considerable pressure. One
would have thought it a suit of armour, both supple and resisting. This
suit formed trousers and waistcoat. The trousers were finished off with
thick boots, weighted with heavy leaden soles. The texture of the
waistcoat was held together by bands of copper, which crossed the
chest, protecting it from the great pressure of the water, and leaving
the lungs free to act; the sleeves ended in gloves, which in no way
restrained the movement of the hands. There was a vast difference
noticeable between these consummate apparatuses and the old cork
breastplates, jackets, and other contrivances in vogue during the
eighteenth century.
Captain Nemo and one of his companions (a sort of Hercules, who must
have possessed great strength), Conseil, and myself, were soon
enveloped in the dresses. There remained nothing more to be done but to
enclose our heads in the metal box. But before proceeding to this
operation, I asked the Captain’s permission to examine the guns we were
to carry.
One of the _Nautilus_ men gave me a simple gun, the butt end of which,
made of steel, hollow in the centre, was rather large. It served as a
reservoir for compressed air, which a valve, worked by a spring,
allowed to escape into a metal tube. A box of projectiles, in a groove
in the thickness of the butt end, contained about twenty of these
electric balls, which, by means of a spring, were forced into the
barrel of the gun. As soon as one shot was fired, another was ready.
“Captain Nemo,” said I, “this arm is perfect, and easily handled: I
only ask to be allowed to try it. But how shall we gain the bottom of
the sea?”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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