instant, officers and men came “tumbling up” from below, panting for breath, with restless eyes watched the course of the cetacean. I looked also, and became nearly blind over it, while Conseil, always so phlegmatic, would say calmly:
“If Monsieur would have the goodness to open his eyes a little less widely he would see very much better.”
But all this excitement was to no purpose. The Abraham Lincoln would change her course and approach the animal signalled at the time, a whale or cachalot, which soon disappeared in the midst of a volley of curses.
Meantime the weather continued favourable, and the voyage was proceeding under pleasant circumstances. It was then the winter season, for July in those latitudes corresponds to our January in Europe, but the sea remained calm, and could be observed for miles in every direction.
Ned Land still remained incredulous. He would not even pretend to examine the sea, save during his watch, except when a whale turned up; and, nevertheless, his wide range of vision would have rendered great service. But eight hours out of twelve this peculiar fellow was either reading or sleeping in his cabin. A hundred times I have expostulated with him.
“Bah,” he would reply, “there is nothing at all, M. Aronnax, and if there were some animal what chance have we of seeing it? Are we not cruising at random? People have, they say, seen this now invisible beast in the Pacific; I admit it, but two months have passed since then, and your narwhal does not care to remain long in
