"Several leagues!" Conseil exclaimed.
"Yes, my boy, and don't even try to compute the number ofthese infusoria. You won't pull it off, because if I'm not mistaken,certain navigators have cruised through milk seas for morethan forty miles."
I'm not sure that Conseil heeded my recommendation, because he seemedto be deep in thought, no doubt trying to calculate how manyone-fifths of a millimeter are found in forty square miles.As for me, I continued to observe this phenomenon. For severalhours the Nautilus's spur sliced through these whitish waves,and I watched it glide noiselessly over this soapy water, as if itwere cruising through those foaming eddies that a bay's currentsand countercurrents sometimes leave between each other.
Near midnight the sea suddenly resumed its usual hue, but behind usall the way to the horizon, the skies kept mirroring the whitenessof those waves and for a good while seemed imbued with the hazyglow of an aurora borealis.
CHAPTER 2
A New Proposition from Captain Nemo
ON JANUARY 28, in latitude 9 degrees 4' north, when the Nautilus returnedat noon to the surface of the sea, it lay in sight of land some eightmiles to the west. Right off, I observed a cluster of mountainsabout 2,000 feet high, whose shapes were very whimsically sculpted.After our position fix, I reentered the lounge, and when our bearingswere reported on the chart, I saw that we were off the island of Ceylon,that pearl dangling from the lower lobe of the Indian peninsula.
I went looking in the library for a book about this island, one ofthe most fertile in the world. Sure enough, I found a volume entitledCeylon and the Singhalese by H. C. Sirr, Esq. Reentering the lounge,I first noted the bearings of Ceylon, on which antiquity lavishedso many different names. It was located between latitude 5 degrees 55'and 9 degrees 49' north, and between longitude 79 degrees 42'and 82 degrees 4' east of the meridian of Greenwich; its lengthis 275 miles; its maximum width, 150 miles; its circumference,900 miles; its surface area, 24,448 square miles, in other words,a little smaller than that of Ireland.
Just then Captain Nemo and his chief officer appeared.
The captain glanced at the chart. Then, turning to me:
"The island of Ceylon," he said, "is famous for its pearl fisheries.Would you be interested, Professor Aronnax, in visiting oneof those fisheries?"
"Certainly, captain."
"Fine. It's easily done. Only, when we see the fisheries,we'll see no fishermen. The annual harvest hasn't yet begun.No matter. I'll give orders to make for the Gulf of Mannar,and we'll arrive there late tonight."
The captain said a few words to his chief officer who wentout immediately. Soon the Nautilus reentered its liquid element,and the pressure gauge indicated that it was staying at a depthof thirty feet.
With the chart under my eyes, I looked for the Gulf of Mannar. I foundit by the 9th parallel off the northwestern shores of Ceylon. It wasformed by the long curve of little Mannar Island. To reach it wehad to go all the way up Ceylon's west coast.
"Professor," Captain Nemo then told me, "there are pearl fisheriesin the Bay of Bengal, the seas of the East Indies, the seasof China and Japan, plus those seas south of the United States,the Gulf of Panama and the Gulf of California; but it's off Ceylonthat such fishing reaps its richest rewards. No doubt we'll bearriving a little early. Fishermen gather in the Gulf of Mannaronly during the month of March, and for thirty days some 300 boatsconcentrate on the lucrative harvest of these treasures from the sea.Each boat is manned by ten oarsmen and ten fishermen.The latter divide into two groups, dive in rotation, and descendto a depth of twelve meters with the help of a heavy stone clutchedbetween their feet and attached by a rope to their boat."
"You mean," I said, "that such primitive methods are still allthat they use?"
"All," Captain Nemo answered me, "although these fisheries belongto the most industrialized people in the world, the English,to whom the Treaty of Amiens granted them in 1802."
"Yet it strikes me that diving suits like yours could perform yeomanservice in such work."
"Yes, since those poor fishermen can't stay long underwater.On his voyage to Ceylon, the Englishman Percival made much of a Kaffirwho stayed under five minutes without coming up to the surface,but I find that hard to believe. I know that some divers can last upto fifty-seven seconds, and highly skillful ones to eighty-seven;but such men are rare, and when the poor fellows climb back on board,the water coming out of their noses and ears is tinted with blood.I believe the average time underwater that these fishermen cantolerate is thirty seconds, during which they hastily stufftheir little nets with all the pearl oysters they can tear loose.But these fishermen generally don't live to advanced age:their vision weakens, ulcers break out on their eyes, sores formon their bodies, and some are even stricken with apoplexy onthe ocean floor."
"Yes," I said, "it's a sad occupation, and one that exists onlyto gratify the whims of fashion. But tell me, captain, how manyoysters can a boat fish up in a workday?"
"About 40,000 to 50,000. It's even said that in 1814, when the Englishgovernment went fishing on its own behalf, its divers worked justtwenty days and brought up 76,000,000 oysters."
"At least," I asked, "the fishermen are well paid, aren't they?"
"Hardly, professor. In Panama they make just $1.00 per week.In most places they earn only a penny for each oyster that has a pearl,and they bring up so many that have none!"
"Only one penny to those poor people who make their employers rich!That's atrocious!"
"On that note, professor," Captain Nemo told me, "you and yourcompanions will visit the Mannar oysterbank, and if by chance someeager fisherman arrives early, well, we can watch him at work."
"That suits me, captain."
"By the way, Professor Aronnax, you aren't afraid of sharks, are you?"
"Sharks?" I exclaimed.
This struck me as a pretty needless question, to say the least.
"Well?" Captain Nemo went on.
"I admit, captain, I'm not yet on very familiar terms with thatgenus of fish."
"We're used to them, the rest of us," Captain Nemo answered."And in time you will be too. Anyhow, we'll be armed, and on ourway we might hunt a man-eater or two. It's a fascinating sport.So, professor, I'll see you tomorrow, bright and early."
This said in a carefree tone, Captain Nemo left the lounge.
If you're invited to hunt bears in the Swiss mountains, you might say:"Oh good, I get to go bear hunting tomorrow!" If you're invitedto hunt lions on the Atlas plains or tigers in the jungles of India,you might say: "Ha! Now's my chance to hunt lions and tigers!"But if you're invited to hunt sharks in their native element,you might want to think it over before accepting.
As for me, I passed a hand over my brow, where beads of cold sweatwere busy forming.
"Let's think this over," I said to myself, "and let's take our time.Hunting otters in underwater forests, as we did in the forestsof Crespo Island, is an acceptable activity. But to roamthe bottom of the sea when you're almost certain to meet man-eatersin the neighborhood, that's another story! I know that incertain countries, particularly the Andaman Islands, Negroes don'thesitate to attack sharks, dagger in one hand and noose in the other;but I also know that many who face those fearsome animals don't comeback alive. Besides, I'm not a Negro, and even if I were a Negro,in this instance I don't think a little hesitation on my part wouldbe out of place."
And there I was, fantasizing about sharks, envisioning huge jaws armedwith multiple rows of teeth and capable of cutting a man in half.I could already feel a definite pain around my pelvic girdle.And how I resented the offhand manner in which the captain hadextended his deplorable invitation! You would have thought itwas an issue of going into the woods on some harmless fox hunt!
"Thank heavens!" I said to myself. "Conseil will never want tocome along, and that'll be my excuse for not going with the captain."
As for Ned Land, I admit I felt less confident of his wisdom.Danger, however great, held a perennial
attraction forhis aggressive nature.
I went back to reading Sirr's book, but I leafed through it mechanically.Between the lines I kept seeing fearsome, wide-open jaws.
Just then Conseil and the Canadian entered with a calm, even gleeful air.Little did they know what was waiting for them.
"Ye gods, sir!" Ned Land told me. "Your Captain Nemo--the deviltake him--has just made us a very pleasant proposition!"
"Oh!" I said "You know about--"
"With all due respect to master," Conseil replied, "the Nautilus'scommander has invited us, together with master, for a visit tomorrowto Ceylon's magnificent pearl fisheries. He did so in the mostcordial terms and conducted himself like a true gentleman."
"He didn't tell you anything else?"
"Nothing, sir," the Canadian replied. "He said you'd alreadydiscussed this little stroll."
"Indeed," I said. "But didn't he give you any details on--"
"Not a one, Mr. Naturalist. You will be going with us, right?"
"Me? Why yes, certainly, of course! I can see that you likethe idea, Mr. Land."
"Yes! It will be a really unusual experience!"
"And possibly dangerous!" I added in an insinuating tone.
"Dangerous?" Ned Land replied. "A simple trip to an oysterbank?"
Assuredly, Captain Nemo hadn't seen fit to plant the idea of sharksin the minds of my companions. For my part, I stared at themwith anxious eyes, as if they were already missing a limb or two.Should I alert them? Yes, surely, but I hardly knew how to go about it.
"Would master," Conseil said to me, "give us some backgroundon pearl fishing?"
"On the fishing itself?" I asked. "Or on the occupational hazards that--"
"On the fishing," the Canadian replied. "Before we tackle the terrain,it helps to be familiar with it."
"All right, sit down, my friends, and I'll teach you everything Imyself have just been taught by the Englishman H. C. Sirr!"
Ned and Conseil took seats on a couch, and right off the Canadiansaid to me:
"Sir, just what is a pearl exactly?"
"My gallant Ned," I replied, "for poets a pearl is a tear from the sea;for Orientals it's a drop of solidified dew; for the ladies it'sa jewel they can wear on their fingers, necks, and ears that'soblong in shape, glassy in luster, and formed from mother-of-pearl;for chemists it's a mixture of calcium phosphate and calciumcarbonate with a little gelatin protein; and finally, for naturalistsit's a simple festering secretion from the organ that producesmother-of-pearl in certain bivalves."
"Branch Mollusca," Conseil said, "class Acephala, order Testacea."
"Correct, my scholarly Conseil. Now then, those Testacea capableof producing pearls include rainbow abalone, turbo snails,giant clams, and saltwater scallops--briefly, all those that secretemother-of-pearl, in other words, that blue, azure, violet, or whitesubstance lining the insides of their valves."
"Are mussels included too?" the Canadian asked.
"Yes! The mussels of certain streams in Scotland, Wales, Ireland,Saxony, Bohemia, and France."
"Good!" the Canadian replied. "From now on we'll pay closerattention to 'em."
"But," I went on, "for secreting pearls, the ideal mollusk is the pearloyster Meleagrina margaritifera, that valuable shellfish. Pearls resultsimply from mother-of-pearl solidifying into a globular shape.Either they stick to the oyster's shell, or they become embeddedin the creature's folds. On the valves a pearl sticks fast;on the flesh it lies loose. But its nucleus is always some small,hard object, say a sterile egg or a grain of sand, around whichthe mother-of-pearl is deposited in thin, concentric layers overseveral years in succession."
"Can one find several pearls in the same oyster?" Conseil asked.
"Yes, my boy. There are some shellfish that turn into realjewel coffers. They even mention one oyster, about which Iremain dubious, that supposedly contained at least 150 sharks."
"150 sharks!" Ned Land yelped.
"Did I say sharks?" I exclaimed hastily. "I meant 150 pearls.Sharks wouldn't make sense."
"Indeed," Conseil said. "But will master now tell us how one goesabout extracting these pearls?"
"One proceeds in several ways, and often when pearls stickto the valves, fishermen even pull them loose with pliers.But usually the shellfish are spread out on mats made from the espartograss that covers the beaches. Thus they die in the open air,and by the end of ten days they've rotted sufficiently. Next they'reimmersed in huge tanks of salt water, then they're opened up and washed.At this point the sorters begin their twofold task. First theyremove the layers of mother-of-pearl, which are known in the industryby the names legitimate silver, bastard white, or bastard black,and these are shipped out in cases weighing 125 to 150 kilograms.Then they remove the oyster's meaty tissue, boil it, and finallystrain it, in order to extract even the smallest pearls."
"Do the prices of these pearls differ depending on their size?"Conseil asked.
"Not only on their size," I replied, "but also according to their shape,their water--in other words, their color--and their orient--in other words, that dappled, shimmering glow that makes them sodelightful to the eye. The finest pearls are called virgin pearls,or paragons; they form in isolation within the mollusk's tissue.They're white, often opaque but sometimes of opalescent transparency,and usually spherical or pear-shaped. The spherical onesare made into bracelets; the pear-shaped ones into earrings,and since they're the most valuable, they're priced individually.The other pearls that stick to the oyster's shell are more erraticallyshaped and are priced by weight. Finally, classed in the lowest order,the smallest pearls are known by the name seed pearls; they're pricedby the measuring cup and are used mainly in the creation of embroideryfor church vestments."
"But it must be a long, hard job, sorting out these pearls by size,"the Canadian said.
"No, my friend. That task is performed with eleven strainers,or sieves, that are pierced with different numbers of holes.Those pearls staying in the strainers with twenty to eighty holesare in the first order. Those not slipping through the sieves piercedwith 100 to 800 holes are in the second order. Finally, those pearlsfor which one uses strainers pierced with 900 to 1,000 holes makeup the seed pearls."
"How ingenious," Conseil said, "to reduce dividing and classifyingpearls to a mechanical operation. And could master tell us the profitsbrought in by harvesting these banks of pearl oysters?"
"According to Sirr's book," I replied, "these Ceylon fisheriesare farmed annually for a total profit of 3,000,000 man-eaters."
"Francs!" Conseil rebuked.
"Yes, francs! 3,000,000 francs!" I went on. "But I don'tthink these fisheries bring in the returns they once did.Similarly, the Central American fisheries used to make an annualprofit of 4,000,000 francs during the reign of King Charles V,but now they bring in only two-thirds of that amount. All in all,it's estimated that 9,000,000 francs is the current yearly returnfor the whole pearl-harvesting industry."
"But," Conseil asked, "haven't certain famous pearls been quotedat extremely high prices?"
"Yes, my boy. They say Julius Caesar gave Servilia a pearl worth120,000 francs in our currency."
"I've even heard stories," the Canadian said, "about some ladyin ancient times who drank pearls in vinegar."
"Cleopatra," Conseil shot back.
"It must have tasted pretty bad," Ned Land added.
"Abominable, Ned my friend," Conseil replied. "But when a littleglass of vinegar is worth 1,500,000 francs, its taste is a smallprice to pay."
"I'm sorry I didn't marry the gal," the Canadian said, throwing uphis hands with an air of discouragement.
"Ned Land married to Cleopatra?" Conseil exclaimed.
"But I was all set to tie the knot, Conseil," the Canadian replied inall seriousness, "and it wasn't my fault the whole business fell through.I even bought a pearl necklace for my fianc?e, Kate Tender,but she married somebody else instead. Well, that necklace costme only $1.50, but you c
an absolutely trust me on this, professor,its pearls were so big, they wouldn't have gone through that strainerwith twenty holes."
"My gallant Ned," I replied, laughing, "those were artificial pearls,ordinary glass beads whose insides were coated with Essence of Orient."
"Wow!" the Canadian replied. "That Essence of Orient must sellfor quite a large sum."
"As little as zero! It comes from the scales of a European carp,it's nothing more than a silver substance that collects in the waterand is preserved in ammonia. It's worthless."
"Maybe that's why Kate Tender married somebody else,"replied Mr. Land philosophically.
"But," I said, "getting back to pearls of great value, I don'tthink any sovereign ever possessed one superior to the pearl ownedby Captain Nemo."
"This one?" Conseil said, pointing to a magnificent jewel inits glass case.
"Exactly. And I'm certainly not far off when I estimate its valueat 2,000,000 . . . uh . . ."
"Francs!" Conseil said quickly.
"Yes," I said, "2,000,000 francs, and no doubt all it cost ourcaptain was the effort to pick it up."
"Ha!" Ned Land exclaimed. "During our stroll tomorrow, who sayswe won't run into one just like it?"
"Bah!" Conseil put in.
"And why not?"
"What good would a pearl worth millions do us here on the Nautilus?"