Under the Sea to the North Pole

by Pierre Mael

  Suddenly, when the dog reached the foot of the hummock, he gave a low growl, soon succeeded by a long clamour which made her shudder. Fatigued by her journey, and having taken no nourishment for twelve hours, she was nervous and impressionable to excess.

  But to this feeling of superstitious terror there instantly succeeded a revival of energy. “Good dog!” she said, caressing Salvator. “Find them; find them!”

  The dog leapt about, barking furiously against the walls of the hummock; he ran round it with increasing signs of irritation against the obstacle.

  Finally he stopped at one of the angles and began to scratch furiously.

  As impatient as the dog, and understanding that something unusual was taking place behind the icy rampart, and confirmed in her suspicions that a cavity existed inside the hummock, she had tried to climb up it, and succeeded in doing so.

  Then occurred what might have been a catastrophe, but which turned out to be the salvation of DeKeralio.

  The ice was thin and gave under Isabelle’s weight. She fell down a sort of tube of ice, the lower level of which . touched the hood of the companion which had been left open on the submarine boat.

  There she found her father, unconscious, and, further away, the corpses of the two sailors.

  Her despair was immense. But as she was a woman of energy she began every effort to keep her father alive.

  It was thus that Hubert D’Ermont had discovered her, with Salvator excitedly struggling to scratch in a way to her through the ice. For while the girl at the-peril of her own life was devoting herself to her father, the pitiless cold was gradually shutting in the passage above her and burying her with the poor lost ones.

  Meanwhile the temperature continued subject to Strangest variations. The snowstorm did not last very long, and by the 1st of September the weather was clear. .A consultation became necessary. The season was so advanced that any attempt to go further would apparently have to be given up. But with health, energy and resolution returned to De Keralio. He in his turn told the story of his adventure.

  “Yes,” said he, “I have seen the Pole; and I only just missed reaching it. This wall of ice which rises before you is not of the same composition as the palaeocrystic blocks on which you now stand. It is not in contact with the sea.”

  “Quite so,” said D’Ermont. “Lieutenant Pol and I clearly saw that to be the case. It rests on a ledge of thick hard rocks, the base of which is deep down in the ocean. But there is nothing to show that there are no fissures in this foundation, like tunnels, for instance, or submarine passages.”

  “These passages exist, my dear boy, and I cannot do better than repeat what I wrote on the paper you took from my bottle. They exist. We passed through them. But when we got to the other side of this granite belt, we were driven back with irresistible force by a sort of prodigious eddy which threw us outside the periphery; and, had it not been for the necessity of our returning we would have tried to overcome this centrifugal force.”

  “The necessity, did you say?” asked Isabelle.

  “The absolute, implacable necessity. And that is the most regrettable thing in my report. I am obliged to suspect some one. I have to make an accusation all the more serious that it demands that some one should be punished for it. If my two sailors are dead, if I have been almost dead myself, it is because our fuel suddenly gave out.”

  “The fuel?” asked Hubert. “Did you not take several tubes of the liquefied hydrogen? Did you not have enough of them?” .

  “On the contrary, the quantity would have been more than enough, for we took ten tubes representing altogether about eight hundred thousand litres of gas. The boat required less than half that to work it. Judge then of my amazement and despair when I found that of the ten tubes five were empty!”

  “Empty!” exclaimed all his hearers at once, in surprise and indignation.

  “Empty,” continued De Keralio; “or, rather, emptied by foul play. The screw had been loosened, and for a long time the tubes had contained not an atom of gas. The crime—for it is a crime— must have been committed either on board or while we were in winter quarters at Cape Ritter. I dare not mention names; but there is one which comes spontaneously to my lips.” . “Hermann Schnecker!” said Hubert, boldly. “I have said it.”

  “Do not accuse any one, my dear Hubert,” interrupted De Keralio. “Time will reveal this tissue of wickedness. We will inquire into it seriously.”

  Then he recounted all the circumstances of this exciting campaign; the return after the repulse to the submarine boat from the centrifugal force; the shipwreck, then the journey over the pack; two long days of a storm of unexampled severity, which had broken the pack as you break an empty egg-shell; the desperate search for the frail vessel that contained all their hopes; then the recovery of the submarine boat under a heap of ice, the return into its icy interior of the three men, the two sailors to die the same day four hours afterwards. At last De Keralio, also struck down to infallibly perish if it had not been for the miraculous intervention of his daughter.

  The recital made a deep impression on all who heard it. The emotion was at its height when Isabelle’s father, returning to his fixed idea, added,—

  “But if the absence of hydrogen prevented me from realizing my project, that hindrance does not now exist. You are abundantly provided with that beneficent gas. Clear away the boat, get her out from her prison of ice, and I will resume the enterprise. It shall not be said that I failed in sight of port.”

  Hubert thereupon intervened and spoke his whole thought.

  “My uncle,” he said, “one of my plans has been to bring this expedition to its appropriate end. But you must understand that we cannot ask you to share in our fatigues and our labours, after the terrible experiences you have just been through. Besides, Dr. Servan will give you the best advice that his knowledge and friendship dictate. The boat can take five men. We only want three to crown the enterprise; Guerbraz, I, and a third we will choose.”

  A voice was heard, ringing and sonorous, the voice of Isabelle.

  “The third will be Isabelle. As my father’s health will not allow him to share in it, his daughter will take his place; and I undertake that you will not fi nd her useless.”

  Vainly did they endeavour to dissuade Isabelle, De Keralio trying more than all. But they could not convince her or shake her enthusiasm.

  Then as time was pressing, and they had to avail themselves of the last days of summer, it was decided to proceed at once. Everything was considered, and calculated and weighed with care. Eight days at the outside would suffice for the adventurous explorers to reach the axis of the world and return. De Keralio, however great was his desire, yielded to the wise advice of his doctor. It was agreed that he should remain in the tent awaiting the return of the boat, or, guided by a detachment of sailors, regain the shelter of the Polar Star in winter quarters at Courbet Island. The first of these alternatives was chosen not without many sighs of regret.

  Everything being thus arranged, the boat was got out of its icy hill comparatively uninjured. It was inspected thoroughly from stem to stern, from keel to deck; its car-lines, its beams, its shaft, its screw, its engines. Every part of this marvellous work in sheet aluminum was gone over and made good down to every rivet.

  Then her loading was proceeded with, a fortnight’s provisions being put on board.

  On the 2nd of September all was ready. The boat was dragged to the edge of the sea and floated all day with a triple load in her.

  Finally, on the 3rd of September, when she had been found thoroughly sound and seaworthy, Isabelle, Hubert D’Ermont, and Guerbraz embarked in her, after warmly shaking hands with their friends.

  The boat was composed essentially of five parts; the engine in the centre; in the bow a torpedo tube to clear the way in case of obstacle, and also two beds for the sailors; in the stern the officers’ cabin, with a passage leading to the engine. Hubert gave up the cabin to his cousin, and contented himself with the pa
ssage.

  Below and on the sides of the boat were two water-tanks of vast dimensions, to be filled and emptied according to the depth desired. Above was an air-chamber for the requirements of respiration, in which Hubert, as a measure of precaution, had put six tubes of oxygen liquefied in the way already known.

  But the most wonderful thing was the gas motor, which De Keralio had contrived with the collaboration of the brothers D’Ermont.

  It was arranged as follows:—

  The hydrogen on its exit from the steel tube first entered an expansion chamber to reduce its strength, and it was then introduced into the cylinder containing the piston by an alternating motion of a slide valve. In its passage it was mixed with a certain quantity of atmospheric air, and traversed by the spark of a Ruhmkorff coil. The result of this was the combination of the hydrogen with the ambient oxygen, yielding water which flowed into a reservoir and was pumped overboard while the expansion of the rest of the mixture on each face of the piston alternately produced the movement. As the gas was used it escaped through capillary tubes which were too fine in bore for water to pass through. The mechanism of distribution thus consisted in the oscillation of the slide valves opening and closing the parts of the cylinder and in the alternate opening of the circuits causing the passage of the electric spark through the inflammatory gas.

  This was, in a way, the last thing in submarine navigation, and the travellers had in their hands the most powerful of agents in the tubes containing the liquefied or solidified hydrogen.

  Before he went on board Hubert had verified these tubes, and was delighted to find that none of them had been tampered with in the way De Keralio had discovered.

  The hour chosen for the departure was noon. At noon precisely the water chambers of the boat began to fill with their tell-tale gurgling, and the boat gradually sank under water.

  So clear was the palaeocrystic sea that for more than five minutes the spectators of the scene could follow the boat in its descent.

  Having reached two hundred and fifty fathoms, the boat rose to the surface. In the open air it could cross the belt of ocean encircling the Pole, and there was no need to waste the precious gas before reaching the shelf of granite which supported the ice.

  During that passage of three hours, the boat, though capable of being driven at twelve knots, was worked entirely by her sails and oars. When she reached the cliffs, Hubert, after carefully studying them, resolved to go a few seconds towards the east. There the jointing of the rocks seemed to show that in that direction they would more easily find the subterranean passages discovered by De Keralio.

  At half-past two o’clock the boat again went under water. She did so prudently, slowly, while a constant lookout was kept on the wall of rock which barred the way to the Pole, and of which every crevice was revealed by the powerful electric light she carried.

  At eighty fathoms the rampart seemed to be torn apart. The boat was in front of a vault like a tunnel under the rocky mass. After what De Keralio had said as to the structure of these giant reefs, Hubert did not doubt for an instant but that he was in front of one of those passages through which the boat had once before journeyed to the north.

  He let the boat descend another six fathoms. He was right. What he had seen was but the top of the subterranean passage. Below, the opening enlarged enormously. What was but a fissure at eighty fathoms became a cupola or dome at a hundred and fifty. And the wondering eyes of the explorers at the windows of the boat gazed admiringly at the fairy picture developing before them.

  It was a veritable fairy palace they were passing through.

  To the right, to the left, in enormous depths carpeted with dense shadows, were successive halls held up by giant pillars. Here and there were what seemed like fragments of fantastic architecture. Here were spires, and there were pediments; further away were strange edifices in which unknown forms seemed to be moving.

  Now and then, amid the mysterious night, a ray of light would stream forth, blue or violet, yellow or opal, and suddenly the sea would reveal its immeasurable depths.

  “Look you, Isabelle,” said Hubert, all of a sudden. “I find here the explanation of the aurora borealis which is so frequent in these icy regions. It is manifest to me that the two Poles are immense condensers of fluids, and that the marvellous illuminations of these waters must project into the sky the strange lights which we have so much admired during the past winter.”

  “You may be right, Hubert,” said Isabelle. “But what can be the cause of that?”

  “I am trying to find out,” said the young man, “and I do not yet see it. To explain the luminous effluences at the same time as the centrifugal force which drove your father back, we must admit the existence at the Pole of an extraordinarily active source of motion, something like a giant cataract displacing millions of gallons of water.”

  “And would such a cause explain all we see?”

  “Certainly. For heat, light, electricity are but modes of the same principle: motion.”

  They were interrupted by a shout from Guerbraz. The sailor who was on the look-out forward, with his eyes at the porthole watching the course ahead, had just exclaimed,—

  “Captain! we are going up, I think: look and see!”

  Hubert rushed to the upper panel and opened the second row of portholes. A stream of daylight inundated the interior of the boat.

  And in this sudden expansion of daylight the incandescent lamps appeared to burn yellow and rusty.

  The young officer rushed to the manometer to see the pressure.

  “But no!” he said. “We are not going up!”

  Moved by the same feeling of curiosity, Isabelle took off the rest of the hatches. A triple cry of admiration broke forth from the boat.

  “We are floating in broad daylight!” said the enthusiastic girl.

  It was true, and yet it was untrue. If they had not had the walls and columns of this marvellous edifice to show them where they were, they would have thought themselves transported into the open air, under the very rays of the sun. A hundred yards over their heads the explorers saw what seemed to be a roof of crystal. The walls and columns were glittering like prisms. Sapphires, emeralds, amethysts were there amid the rippling gleam of diamonds. In the depths they could see cascades of precious stones that were strange to .them. The water had become invisible, and given place to an atmosphere of light.

  “My God!” said Isabelle, addressing a prayer to the Creator,” Thy works are beautiful!”

  The temperature was of springtide mildness. The explorers in their polar costumes were too warm. They threw off all that they found too heavy.

  “Where are we?” asked Hubert, with vague uneasiness.

  As if in reply the light suddenly went out, and they were in dense darkness.

  At the same time a violent shock shook the boat in every frame, and it stopped dead.

  CHAPTER XIII

  TO THE POLE.

  IT was a moment of indescribable amazement. The violence of the commotion had shaken everything. Isabelle had lost her balance, and without the aid of

  Hubert’s arm she would have inevitably broken her head against the side of the boat.

  But this sudden darkness lasted only for an instant. In, as it were, a flash of lightning, the light appeared again, and Hubert intuitively guessed the secret of the accident.

  In this subterranean ocean, saturated with electricity, certain parts of the vault, of the pillars, and the walls, acted as accumulators. It had happened that in approaching within range of the rocks, the boat had caused an electrical discharge sufficiently strong to suddenly extinguish the light. But the extreme penetrability of the medium had preserved her from destruction.

  Unfortunately, the shock had caused a breakage in part of the rocky mass, and blocked the way in which they were going.

  Some means had to be found of overcoming this difficulty. In front a heap of huge blocks had been thrown together to form a regular barricade, to remove which would
require a machine, but which an explosive might perhaps clear at once.

  Isabelle was the first to see what ought to be done.

  “It is time to try a torpedo!” she said.

  “So I think,” said Hubert, “but is it wise to take such extreme measures?”

  “What are you afraid of? Blowing up the vault?”

  “That would be a small mishap and a danger of little importance. No. What I am afraid of is the eddy the reaction would produce in so restricted a space. Supposing we are dashed against the wall?”

  “Do you prefer to be buried in this liquid shroud?”

  “No,” replied D’Ermont, “and as we have no choice we must use the only means we have of clearing the way.”

  The boat was backed about three hundred yards. The ‘ cavity extended much further along under the vault. The part of the submarine grotto in which they were was a sort of niche, of which it was at first sight impossible to calculate the dimensions. But Hubert felt little anxiety. He had only to back the boat as the torpedo drove-ahead to save her from the sudden displacement of the water.

  It did not take long to execute the manoeuvre. The torpedo was launched from the tube forward as the boat went full speed astern, and heading straight at the barricade of rocks it exploded.

  The water was violently agitated, and shook the boat as if she were in a furious sea. But this was not nearly so dangerous as if it had dashed her against the rocky wall. There were no signs of this, however, and driving ahead again, D’Ermont saw that a large hole had been made.

  Resolutely then he put on all the, speed he could, and, taking care to keep clear of the walls, he swiftly passed onward amid the depths.

  But somehow he must get out of this. In consulting the chronometers he found that it was eighteen hours since they left the field of ice, and ten since they had been under water. In spite of all his precautions and the oxygen given out by the apparatus, the atmosphere had grown heavy within the boat. The carbonic acid was evidently becoming excessive. Guerbraz, kneeling down to pick up something, nearly fainted. He would not have got up again had not D’Ermont, who saw what was the matter, gone to him instantly and raised him.