, the constellations shone with
wonderful intensity. In the zenith glittered that wondrous Southern
Cross--the polar bear of Antarctic regions. The thermometer showed 120
below zero, and when the wind freshened it was most biting. Flakes of
ice increased on the open water. The sea seemed everywhere alike.
Numerous blackish patches spread on the surface, showing the formation
of fresh ice. Evidently the southern basin, frozen during the six
winter months, was absolutely inaccessible. What became of the whales
in that time? Doubtless they went beneath the icebergs, seeking more
practicable seas. As to the seals and morses, accustomed to live in a
hard climate, they remained on these icy shores. These creatures have
the instinct to break holes in the ice-field and to keep them open. To
these holes they come for breath; when the birds, driven away by the
cold, have emigrated to the north, these sea mammals remain sole
masters of the polar continent. But the reservoirs were filling with
water, and the Nautilus was slowly descending. At 1,000 feet deep it
stopped; its screw beat the waves, and it advanced straight towards the
north at a speed of fifteen miles an hour. Towards night it was
already floating under the immense body of the iceberg. At three in
the morning I was awakened by a violent shock. I sat up in my bed and
listened in the darkness, when I was thrown into the middle of the
room. The Nautilus, after having struck, had rebounded violently. I
groped along the partition, and by the staircase to the saloon, which
was lit by the luminous ceiling. The furniture was upset. Fortunately
the windows were firmly set, and had held fast. The pictures on the
starboard side, from being no longer vertical, were clinging to the
paper, whilst those of the port side were hanging at least a foot from
the wall. The Nautilus was lying on its starboard side perfectly
motionless. I heard footsteps, and a confusion of voices; but Captain
Nemo did not appear. As I was leaving the saloon, Ned Land and Conseil
entered.

"What is the matter?" said I, at once.

"I came to ask you, sir," replied Conseil.

"Confound it!" exclaimed the Canadian, "I know well enough! The
Nautilus has struck; and, judging by the way she lies, I do not think
she will right herself as she did the first time in Torres Straits."

"But," I asked, "has she at least come to the surface of the sea?"

"We do not know," said Conseil.

"It i