btedly swallowed up all the western part of Algeria."

"It will not last long, sir," said Ben Zoof. "It is, probably, only a
severe flood."

The captain shook his head. "Worse than that, I fear, Ben Zoof," he
replied with emotion. "It is a catastrophe that may have very
serious consequences. What can have become of all my friends and
fellow-officers?"

Ben Zoof was silent. Rarely had he seen his master so much agitated;
and though himself inclined to receive these phenomena with philosophic
indifference, his notions of military duty caused his countenance to
reflect the captain's expression of amazement.

But there was little time for Servadac to examine the changes which a
few hours had wrought. The sun had already reached the eastern horizon,
and just as though it were crossing the ecliptic under the tropics,
it sank like a cannon ball into the sea. Without any warning, day gave
place to night, and earth, sea, and sky were immediately wrapped in
profound obscurity.

CHAPTER VI. THE CAPTAIN MAKES AN EXPLORATION

Hector Servadac was not the man to remain long unnerved by any untoward
event. It was part of his character to discover the why and the
wherefore of everything that came under his observation, and he would
have faced a cannon ball the more unflinchingly from understanding the
dynamic force by which it was propelled. Such being his temperament, it
may well be imagined that he was anxious not to remain long in ignorance
of the cause of the phenomena which had been so startling in their
consequences.

"We must inquire into this to-morrow," he exclaimed, as darkness fell
suddenly upon him. Then, after a pause, he added: "That is to say, if
there is to be a to-morrow; for if I were to be put to the torture, I
could not tell what has become of the sun."

"May I ask, sir, what we are to do now?" put in Ben Zoof.

"Stay where we are for the present; and when daylight appears--if it
ever does appear--we will explore the coast to the west and south, and
return to the gourbi. If we can find out nothing else, we must at least
discover where we are."

"Meanwhile, sir, may we go to sleep?"

"Certainly, if you like, and if you can."

Nothing loath to avail himself of his master's permission, Ben Zoof
crouched down in an angle of the shore, threw his arms over his eyes,
and very soon slept the sleep of the ignorant, which is often sounder
than the sleep of the just. Overwhelmed by the questions that crowde