Robur the Conqueror by Jules Verne
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Jules Verne >> Robur the Conqueror
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They had now passed the forty-seventh parallel. The day was but
little over seven hours long, and would become even less as they
approached the Pole.
About one o'clock in the afternoon the "Albatross" was floating along
in a lower current than usual, about a hundred feet from the level of
the sea. The air was calm, but in certain parts of the sky were thick
black clouds, massed in mountains, on their upper surface, and ruled
off below by a sharp horizontal line. From these clouds a few lengthy
protuberances escaped, and their points as they fell seemed to draw
up hills of foaming water to meet them.
Suddenly the water shot up in the form of a gigantic hourglass, and
the "Albatross" was enveloped in the eddy of an enormous waterspout,
while twenty others, black as ink, raged around her. Fortunately the
gyratory movement of the water was opposite to that of the suspensory
screws, otherwise the aeronef would have been hurled into the sea.
But she began to spin round on herself with frightful rapidity. The
danger was immense, and perhaps impossible to escape, for the
engineer could not get through the spout which sucked him back in
defiance of his propellers. The men, thrown to the ends of the deck
by centrifugal force, were grasping the rail to save themselves from
being shot off.
"Keep cool!" shouted Robur.
They wanted all their coolness, and their patience, too. Uncle
Prudent and Phil Evans, who had just come out of their cabin, were
hurled back at the risk of flying overboard. As she spun the
"Albatross" was carried along by the spout, which pirouetted along
the waves with a speed enough to make the helices jealous. And if she
escaped from the spout she might be caught by another, and jerked to
pieces with the shock.
"Get the gun ready!" said Robur.
The order was given to Tom Turner, who was crouching behind the
swivel amidships where the effect of the centrifugal force was least
felt. He understood. In a moment he had opened the breech and slipped
a cartridge from the ammunition-box at hand. The gun went off, and the
waterspouts collapsed, and with them vanished the platform of cloud
they seemed to bear above them.
"Nothing broken on board?" asked Robur.
"No," answered Tom Turner. "But we don't want to have another game of
humming-top like that!"
For ten minutes or so the "Albatross" had been in extreme peril. Had
it not been for her extraordinary strength of build she would have
been lost.
During this passage of the Atlantic many were the hours whose
monotony was unbroken by any phenomenon whatever. The days grew
shorter and shorter, and the cold became keen. Uncle Prudent and Phil
Evans saw little of Robur. Seated in his cabin, the engineer was busy
laying out his course and marking it on his maps, taking his
observations whenever he could, recording the readings of his
barometers, thermometers, and chronometers, and making full entries
in his log-book.
The colleagues wrapped themselves well up and eagerly watched for the
sight of land to the southward. At Uncle Prudent's request Frycollin
tried to pump the cook as to whither the engineer was bound, but what
reliance could be placed on the information given by this Gascon?
Sometimes Robur was an ex-minister of the Argentine Republic,
sometimes a lord of the Admiralty, sometimes an ex-President of the
United States, sometimes a Spanish general temporarily retired,
sometimes a Viceroy of the Indies who had sought a more elevated
position in the air. Sometimes he possessed millions, thanks to
successful razzias in the aeronef, and he had been proclaimed for
piracy. Sometimes he had been ruined by making the aeronef, and had
been forced to fly aloft to escape from his creditors. As to knowing
if he were going to stop anywhere, no! But if he thought of going to
the moon, and found there a convenient anchorage, he would anchor
there! "Eh! Fry! My boy! That would just suit you to see what was
going on up there."
"I shall not go! I refuse!" said the Negro, who took all these things
seriously.
"And why, Fry, why? You might get married to some pretty bouncing
Lunarian!"
Frycollin reported this conversation to his master, who saw it was
evident that nothing was to be learnt about Robur. And so he thought
still more of how he could have his revenge on him.
"Phil," said he one day, "is it quite certain that escape is
impossible?"
"Impossible."
"Be it so! But a man is always his own property; and if necessary, by
sacrificing his life --"
"If we are to make that sacrifice," said Phil Evans, "the sooner the
better. It is almost time to end this. Where is the "Albatross"
going? Here we are flying obliquely over the Atlantic, and if we keep
on we shall get to the coast of Patagonia or Tierra del Fuego. And
what are we to do then? Get into the Pacific, or go to the continent
at the South Pole? Everything is possible with this Robur. We shall
be lost in the end. It is thus a case of legitimate self-defence, and
if we must perish--"
"Which we shall not do," answered Uncle Prudent, "without being
avenged, without annihilating this machine and all she carries."
The colleagues had reached a stage of impotent fury, and were
prepared to sacrifice themselves if they could only destroy the
inventor and his secret. A few months only would then be the life of
this prodigious aeronef, of whose superiority in aerial locomotion
they had such convincing proofs! The idea took such hold of them that
they thought of nothing else but how to put it into execution. And
how? By seizing on some of the explosives on board and simply blowing
her up. But could they get at the magazines?
Fortunately for them, Frycollin had no suspicion of their scheme. At
the thought of the "Albatross" exploding in midair, he would not have
shrunk from betraying his master.
It was on the 23rd of July that the land reappeared in the southwest
near Cape Virgins at the entrance of the Straits of Magellan. Under
the fifty-second parallel at this time of year the night was eighteen
hours long and the temperature was six below freezing.
At first the "Albatross," instead of keeping on to the south,
followed the windings of the coast as if to enter the Pacific. After
passing Lomas Bay, leaving Mount Gregory to the north and the
Brecknocks to the west, they sighted Puerto Arena, a small Chilean
village, at the moment the churchbells were in full swing; and a few
hours later they were over the old settlement at Port Famine.
If the Patagonians, whose fires could be seen occasionally, were
really above the average in stature, the passengers in the aeronef
were unable to say, for to them they seemed to be dwarfs. But what a
magnificent landscape opened around during these short hours of the
southern day! Rugged mountains, peaks eternally capped with snow,
with thick forests rising on their flanks, inland seas, bays deep set
amid the peninsulas, and islands of the Archipelago. Clarence Island,
Dawson Island, and the Land of Desolation, straits and channels,
capes and promontories, all in inextricable confusion, and bound by
the ice in one solid mass from Cape Forward, the most southerly point
of the American continent, to Cape Horn the most southerly point of
the New World.
When she reached Fort Famine the "Albatross" resumed her course to
the south. Passing between Mount Tam on the Brunswick Peninsula and
Mount Graves, she steered for Mount Sarmiento, an enormous peak
wrapped in snow, which commands the Straits of Magellan, rising six
thousand four hundred feet from the sea. And now they were over the
land of the Fuegians, Tierra del Fuego, the land of fire. Six months
later, in the height of summer, with days from fifteen to sixteen
hours long, how beautiful and fertile would most of this country be,
particularly in its northern portion! Then, all around would be seen
valleys and pasturages that could form the feeding-grounds of
thousands of animals; then would appear virgin forests, gigantic
trees-birches, beeches, ash-trees, cypresses, tree-ferns--and broad
plains overrun by herds of guanacos, vicunas, and ostriches. Now
there were armies of penguins and myriads of birds; and, when the
"Albatross" turned on her electric lamps the guillemots, ducks, and
geese came crowding on board enough to fill Tapage's larder a hundred
times and more.
Here was work for the cook, who knew how to bring out the flavor of
the game and keep down its peculiar oiliness. And here was work for
Frycollin in plucking dozen after dozen of such interesting feathered
friends.
That day, as the sun was setting about three o'clock in the
afternoon, there appeared in sight a large lake framed in a border of
superb forest. The lake was completely frozen over, and a few natives
with long snowshoes on their feet were swiftly gliding over it.
At the sight of the "Albatross," the Fuegians, overwhelmed with
terror--scattered in all directions, and when they could not get
away they hid themselves, taking, like the animals, to the holes in
the ground.
The "Albatross" still held her southerly course, crossing the Beagle
Channel, and Navarin Island and Wollaston Island, on the shores of
the Pacific. Then, having accomplished 4,700 miles since she left
Dahomey, she passed the last islands of the Magellanic archipelago,
whose most southerly outpost, lashed by the everlasting surf, is the
terrible Cape Horn.
Chapter XVII
THE SHIPWRECKED CREW
Next day was the 24th of July; and the 24th of July in the southern
hemisphere corresponds to the 24th of January in the northern. The
fifty-sixth degree of latitude had been left behind. The similar
parallel in northern Europe runs through Edinburgh.
The thermometer kept steadily below freezing, so that the machinery
was called upon to furnish a little artificial heat in the cabins.
Although the days begin to lengthen after the 21st day of June in the
southern hemisphere, yet the advance of the "Albatross" towards the
Pole more than neutralized this increase, and consequently the
daylight became very short. There was thus very little to be seen. At
night time the cold became very keen; but as there was no scarcity of
clothing on board, the colleagues, well wrapped up, remained a good
deal on deck thinking over their plans of escape, and watching for an
opportunity. Little was seen of Robur; since the high words that had
been exchanged in the Timbuktu country, the engineer had left off
speaking to his prisoners. Frycollin seldom came out of the
cook-house, where Tapage treated him most hospitably, on condition
that he acted as his assistant. This position was not without its
advantages, and the Negro, with his master's permission, very
willingly accepted. it. Shut up in the galley, he saw nothing of what
was passing outside, and might even consider himself beyond the reach
of danger. He was, in fact, very like the ostrich, not only in his
stomach, but in his folly.
But whither went the "Albatross?" Was she in mid-winter bound for the
southern seas or continents round the Pole? In this icy atmosphere,
even granting that the elements of the batteries were unaffected by
such frost, would not all the crew succumb to a horrible death from
the cold? That Robur should attempt to cross the Pole in the warm
season was bad enough, but to attempt such a thing in the depth of
the winter night would be the act of a madman.
Thus reasoned the President and Secretary of the Weldon Institute,
now they had been brought to the end of the continent of the New
World, which is still America, although it does not belong to the
United States.
What was this intractable Robur going to do? Had not the time arrived
for them to end the voyage by blowing up the ship?
It was noticed that during the 24th of July the engineer had frequent
consultations with his mate. He and Tom Turner kept constant watch on
the barometer--not so much to keep themselves informed of the height
at which they were traveling as to be on the look-out for a change in
the weather. Evidently some indications had been observed of which it
was necessary to make careful note.
Uncle Prudent also remarked that Robur had been taking stock of the
provisions and stores, and everything seemed to show that he was
contemplating turning back.
"Turning back!" said Phil Evans. "But where to?"
"Where he can reprovision the ship," said Uncle Prudent.
"That ought to be in some lonely island in the Pacific with a colony
of scoundrels worthy of their chief."
"That is what I think. I fancy he is going west, and with the speed
he can get up it would not take, him long to get home."
"But we should not be able to put our plan into execution. If we get
there --"
"We shall not get there!"
The colleagues had partly guessed the engineer's intentions. During
the day it became no longer doubtful that when the "Albatross"
reached the confines of the Antarctic Sea her course was to be
changed. When the ice has formed about Cape Horn the lower regions of
the Pacific are covered with icefields and icebergs. The floes then
form an impenetrable barrier to the strongest ships and the boldest
navigators. Of course, by increasing the speed of her wings the
"Albatross" could clear the mountains of ice accumulated on the ocean
as she could the mountains of earth on the polar continent--if it is
a continent that forms the cap of the southern pole. But would she
attempt it in the middle of the polar night, in an atmosphere of
sixty below freezing?
After she had advanced about a hundred miles to the south the
"Albatross" headed westerly, as if for some unknown island of the
Pacific. Beneath her stretched the liquid plain between Asia and
America. The waters now had assumed that singular color which has
earned for them the name of the Milky Sea. In the half shadow, which
the enfeebled rays of the sun were unable to dissipate, the surface
of the Pacific was a milky white. It seemed like a vast snowfield,
whose undulations were imperceptible at such a height. If the sea had
been solidified by the cold, and converted into an immense icefield,
its aspect could not have been much different. They knew that the
phenomenon was produced by myriads of luminous particles of
phosphorescent corpuscles; but it was surprising to come across such
an opalescent mass beyond the limits of the Indian Ocean.
Suddenly the barometer fell after keeping somewhat high during the
earlier hours of the day. Evidently the indications were such as a
shipmaster might feel anxious at, though the master of an aeronef
might despise them. There was every sign that a terrible storm had
recently raged in the Pacific.
It was one o'clock in the afternoon when Tom Turner came up to the
engineer and said, "Do you see that black spot on the horizon, sir--
there away to due north of us? That is not a rock?"
"No, Tom; there is no land out there."
"Then it must be a ship or a boat."
Uncle Prudent and Phil Evans, who were in the bow, looked in the
direction pointed out by the mate.
Robur asked for the glass and attentively observed the object.
"It is a boat," said he, "and there are some men in it."
"Shipwrecked?" asked Tom.
"Yes! They have had to abandon their ship, and, knowing nothing of
the nearest land, are perhaps dying of hunger and thirst! Well, it
shall not be said that the "Albatross" did not come to their help!"
The orders were given, and the aeronef began to sink towards the sea.
At three hundred yards from it the descent was stopped, and the
propellers drove ahead full speed towards the north.
It was a boat. Her sail flapped against the mast as she rose and fell
on the waves. There was no wind, and she was making no progress.
Doubtless there was no one on board with strength enough left to work
the oars. In the boat were five men asleep or helpless, if they were
not dead.
The "Albatross" had arrived above them, and slowly descended. On the
boat's stern was the name of the ship to which she belonged--the
"Jeannette" of Nantes.
"Hallo, there!" shouted Turner, loud enough for the men to hear, for
the boat was only eighty feet below him.
There was no answer. "Fire a gun!" said Robur.
The gun was fired and the report rang out over the sea.
One of the men looked up feebly. His eyes were haggard and his face
was that of a skeleton. As he caught sight of the "Albatross" he made
a gesture as of fear.
"Don't be afraid," said Robur in French, "we have come to help you.
Who are you?"
"We belong to the barque "Jeannette," and I am the mate. We left her
a fortnight ago as she was sinking. We have no water and no food."
The four other men had now sat up. Wan and exhausted, in a terrible
state of emaciation, they lifted their hands towards the "Albatross."
"Look-out!" shouted Robur.
A line was let down, and a pail of fresh water was lowered into the
boat. The men snatched at it and drank it with an eagerness awful to
see.
"Bread, bread!" they exclaimed.
Immediately a basket with some food and five pints of coffee
descended towards them. The mate with difficulty restrained them in
their ravenousness.
"Where are we?" asked the mate at last.
"Fifty miles from the Chili coast and the Chonos Archipelago,"
answered Robur.
"Thanks. But we are becalmed, and--?"
"We are going to tow you."
"Who are you?"
"People who are glad to be of assistance to you," said Robur.
The mate understood that the incognito was to be respected. But had
the flying machine sufficient power to tow them through the water?
Yes; and the boat, attached to a hundred feet of rope, began to move
off towards the east. At ten o'clock at night the land was sighted--
or rather they could see the lights which indicated its position.
This rescue from the sky had come just in time for the survivors of
the "Jeannette," and they had good reason to believe it miraculous.
When they had been taken to the mouth of the channel leading among
the Chonos Islands, Robur shouted to them to cast off the tow-line.
This, with many a blessing to those who had saved them, they did, and
the "Albatross" headed out to the offing.
Certainly there was some good in this aeronef, which could thus help
those who were lost at sea! What balloon, perfect as it might be,
would be able to perform such a service? And between themselves Uncle
Prudent and Phil Evans could not but admire it, although they were
quite disposed to deny the evidence of their senses.
Chapter XVIII
OVER THE VOLCANO
The sea was as rough as ever, and the symptoms became alarming. The
barometer fell several millimeters. The wind came in violent gusts,
and then for a moment or so failed altogether. Under such
circumstances a sailing vessel would have had to reef in her topsails
and her foresail. Everything showed that the wind was rising in the
northwest. The storm-glass became much troubled and its movements
were most disquieting.
At one o'clock in the morning the wind came on again with extreme
violence. Although the aeronef was going right in its teeth she was
still making progress at a rate of from twelve to fifteen miles an
hour. But that was the utmost she could do.
Evidently preparations must be made for a cyclone, a very rare
occurrence in these latitudes. Whether it be called a hurricane, as
in the Atlantic, a typhoon, as in Chinese waters a simoom, as in the
Sahara, or a tornado, as on the western coast, such a storm is always
a gyratory one, and most dangerous for any ship caught in the current
which increases from the circumference to the center, and has only
one spot of calm, the middle of the vortex.
Robur knew this. He also knew it was best to escape from the cyclone
and get beyond its zone of attraction by ascending to the higher
strata. Up to then he had always succeeded in doing this, but now he
had not an hour, perhaps not a minute, to lose.
In fact the violence of the wind sensibly increased. The crests of
the waves were swept off as they rose and blown into white dust on
the surface of the sea. It was manifest that the cyclone was
advancing with fearful velocity straight towards the regions of the
pole.
"Higher!" said Robur.
"Higher it is," said Tom Turner.
An extreme ascensional power was communicated to the aeronef, and she
shot up slantingly as if she was traveling on a plane sloping
downwards from the southwest. Suddenly the barometer fell more than a
dozen millimeters and the "Albatross" paused in her ascent.
What was the cause of the stoppage? Evidently she was pulled back by
the air; some formidable current had diminished the resistance to the
screws. When a steamer travels upstream more work is got out of her
screw than when the water is running between the blades. The recoil
is then considerable, and may perhaps be as great as the current. It
was thus with the "Albatross" at this moment.
But Robur was not the man to give in. His seventy-four screws,
working perfectly together, were driven at their maximum speed. But
the aeronef could not escape; the attraction of the cyclone was
irresistible. During the few moments of calm she began to ascend, but
the heavy pull soon drew her back, and she sunk like a ship as she
founders.
Evidently if the violence of the cyclone went on increasing the
"Albatross" would be but as a straw caught in one of those whirlwinds
that root up the trees, carry off roofs, and blow down walls.
Robur and Tom could only speak by signs. Uncle Prudent and Phil Evans
clung to the rail and wondered if the cyclone was not playing their
game in destroying the aeronef and with her the inventor--and with
the inventor the secret of his invention.
But if the "Albatross" could not get out of the cyclone vertically
could she not do something else? Could she not gain the center, where
it was comparatively calm, and where they would have more control
over her? Quite so, but to do this she would have to break through
the circular currents which were sweeping her round with them. Had
she sufficient mechanical power to escape through them?
Suddenly the upper part of the cloud fell in. The vapor condensed in
torrents of rain. It was two o'clock in the morning. The barometer,
oscillating over a range of twelve millimeters, had now fallen to
27.91, and from this something should be taken on account of the
height of the aeronef above the level of the sea.
Strange to say, the cyclone was out of the zone to which such storms
are generally restricted, such zone being bounded by the thirtieth
parallel of north latitude and the twenty-sixth parallel of south
latitude. This may perhaps explain why the eddying storm suddenly
turned into a straight one. But what a hurricane! The tempest in
Connecticut on the 22nd of March, 1882, could only have been compared
to it, and the speed of that was more than three hundred miles an
hour.
The "Albatross" had thus to fly before the wind or rather she had to
be left to be driven by the current, from which she could neither
mount nor escape. But in following this unchanging trajectory she was
bearing due south, towards those polar regions which Robur had
endeavored to avoid. And now he was no longer master of her course;
she would go where the hurricane took her.
Tom Turner was at the helm, and it required all his skill to keep her
straight. In the first hours of the morning--if we can so call the
vague tint which began to rise over the horizon--the "Albatross" was
fifteen degrees below Cape Horn; twelve hundred miles more and she
would cross the antarctic circle. Where she was, in this month of
July, the night lasted nineteen hours and a half. The sun's disk--
without warmth, without light--only appeared above the horizon to
disappear almost immediately. At the pole the night lengthened into
one of a hundred and seventy-nine hours. Everything showed that the
"Albatross" was about to plunge into an abyss.
During the day an observation, had it been possible, would have given
66 degrees 40' south latitude. The aeronef was within fourteen hundred
miles of the pole.
Irresistibly was she drawn towards this inaccessible corner of the
globe, her speed eating up, so to speak, her weight, although she
weighed less than before, owing to the flattening of the earth at the
pole. It seemed as though she could have dispensed altogether with
her suspensory screws. And soon the fury of the storm reached such a
height that Robur thought it best to reduce the speed of her helices
as much as possible, so as to avoid disaster. And only enough speed
was given to keep the aeronef under control of the rudder.
Amid these dangers the engineer retained his imperturbable coolness,
and the crew obeyed him as if their leader's mind had entered into
them. Uncle Prudent and Phil Evans had not for a moment left the
deck; they could remain without being disturbed. The air made but
slight resistance. The aeronef was like an aerostat, which drifts
with the fluid masses in which it is plunged.
Is the domain of the southern pole a continent or an archipelago? Or
is it a palaeocrystic sea, whose ice melts not even during the long
summer? We know not. But what we do know is that the southern pole is
colder than the northern one--a phenomenon due to the position of
the earth in its orbit during winter in the antarctic regions.
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