e kind of "chaluts," like
those on the Normandy coasts, great pockets that the waves and a chain
fixed in the smaller meshes kept open. These pockets, drawn by iron
poles, swept through the water, and gathered in everything in their
way. That day they brought up curious specimens from those productive
coasts.

I reckoned that the haul had brought in more than nine hundredweight of
fish. It was a fine haul, but not to be wondered at. Indeed, the nets
are let down for several hours, and enclose in their meshes an infinite
variety. We had no lack of excellent food, and the rapidity of the
Nautilus and the attraction of the electric light could always renew
our supply. These several productions of the sea were immediately
lowered through the panel to the steward's room, some to be eaten
fresh, and others pickled.

The fishing ended, the provision of air renewed, I thought that the
Nautilus was about to continue its submarine excursion, and was
preparing to return to my room, when, without further preamble, the
Captain turned to me, saying:

"Professor, is not this ocean gifted with real life? It has its
tempers and its gentle moods. Yesterday it slept as we did, and now it
has woke after a quiet night. Look!" he continued, "it wakes under the
caresses of the sun. It is going to renew its diurnal existence. It
is an interesting study to watch the play of its organisation. It has
a pulse, arteries, spasms; and I agree with the learned Maury, who
discovered in it a circulation as real as the circulation of blood in
animals.

"Yes, the ocean has indeed circulation, and to promote it, the Creator
has caused things to multiply in it--caloric, salt, and animalculae."

When Captain Nemo spoke thus, he seemed altogether changed, and aroused
an extraordinary emotion in me.

"Also," he added, "true existence is there; and I can imagine the
foundations of nautical towns, clusters of submarine houses, which,
like the Nautilus, would ascend every morning to breathe at the surface
of the water, free towns, independent cities. Yet who knows whether
some despot----"

Captain Nemo finished his sentence with a violent gesture. Then,
addressing me as if to chase away some sorrowful thought:

"M. Aronnax," he asked, "do you know the depth of the ocean?"

"I only know, Captain, what the principal soundings have taught us."

"Could you tell me them, so that I can suit them to my purpose?"

"These are some," I replied,