he found me. I determined not to allow him to go away without having at least given me some hint as to his future proceedings. He approached as soon as he saw me, and offered me a cigar.
“Well, monsieur,” he said, “does the Red Sea please you? Have you sufficiently examined the wonders it contains—its fish and zoophytes, its sponges and corals? Have you seen the towns on the coast?”
“Yes, Captain Nemo,” I replied, “and the Nautilus is wonderfully fitted for such studies. It is a very cleverly-designed vessel.”
“Yes, sir; clever, fearless, and invulnerable. It neither fears the tempests of the Red Sea, its currents, nor its rocks.”
“In fact,” said I, “this sea is quoted as being one of the worst, and, if I do not mistake, its reputation in ancient times was very bad indeed.”
“Detestable, M. Aronnax. The Greek and Latin writers do not speak well of it, and Strabo says that it is particularly dangerous during the season of the Etesian winds and in the rainy season. The Arab historian, Edrisi, who has described it under the name of the Gulf of Colzoum, relates that ships have perished in great numbers on its sand-banks, and that no one would venture to navigate it during the night. It was, he states, subject to terrific hurricanes, and interspersed with barren islands, and ‘had nothing good in it,’ either above or below. Such, indeed, was the opinion of Arrian, Agatharchides, and Artemidorus.”
“One can very easily perceive that these historians never navigated it in the Nautilus,” said I.
“Exactly,” replied the captain, smiling; “and in this respect the moderns are not much more advanced than were the ancients. It has taken many centuries to develop the
