had withdrawn itself by a backward
motion.
Such was the last fact, which resulted in exciting once more the
torrent of public opinion. From this moment all unlucky casualties
which could not be otherwise accounted for were put down to the monster.
Upon this imaginary creature rested the responsibility of all these
shipwrecks, which unfortunately were considerable; for of three
thousand ships whose loss was annually recorded at Lloyd's, the number
of sailing and steam-ships supposed to be totally lost, from the
absence of all news, amounted to not less than two hundred!
Now, it was the "monster" who, justly or unjustly, was accused of their
disappearance, and, thanks to it, communication between the different
continents became more and more dangerous. The public demanded sharply
that the seas should at any price be relieved from this formidable
cetacean.[1]
[1] Member of the whale family.
CHAPTER II
PRO AND CON
At the period when these events took place, I had just returned from a
scientific research in the disagreeable territory of Nebraska, in the
United States. In virtue of my office as Assistant Professor in the
Museum of Natural History in Paris, the French Government had attached
me to that expedition. After six months in Nebraska, I arrived in New
York towards the end of March, laden with a precious collection. My
departure for France was fixed for the first days in May. Meanwhile I
was occupying myself in classifying my mineralogical, botanical, and
zoological riches, when the accident happened to the Scotia.
I was perfectly up in the subject which was the question of the day.
How could I be otherwise? I had read and reread all the American and
European papers without being any nearer a conclusion. This mystery
puzzled me. Under the impossibility of forming an opinion, I jumped
from one extreme to the other. That there really was something could
not be doubted, and the incredulous were invited to put their finger on
the wound of the Scotia.
On my arrival at New York the question was at its height. The theory
of the floating island, and the unapproachable sandbank, supported by
minds little competent to form a judgment, was abandoned. And, indeed,
unless this shoal had a machine in its stomach, how could it change its
position with such astonishing rapidity?
From the same cause, the idea of a floating hull of an enormous wreck
was given up.
There remained, then, only tw
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