Three seconds before the arrival of J. B. Hobson's letter, I no more
thought of pursuing the unicorn than of attempting the passage of the
North Sea. Three seconds after reading the letter of the honourable
Secretary of Marine, I felt that my true vocation, the sole end of my
life, was to chase this disturbing monster, and purge it from the
world.
But I had just returned from a fatiguing journey, weary and longing for
repose. I aspired to nothing more than again seeing my country, my
friends, my little lodging by the Jardin des Plantes, my dear and
precious collections. But nothing could keep me back! I forgot
all—fatigue, friends and collections—and accepted without hesitation
the offer of the American Government.
"Besides," thought I, "all roads lead back to Europe (for my particular
benefit), and I will not hurry me towards the coast of France. This
worthy animal may allow itself to be caught in the seas of Europe (for
my particular benefit), and I will not bring back less than half a yard
of his ivory halberd to the Museum of Natural History." But in the
meanwhile I must seek this narwhal in the North Pacific Ocean, which,
to return to France, was taking the road to the antipodes.
"Conseil," I called in an impatient voice.
Conseil was my servant, a true, devoted Flemish boy, who had
accompanied me in all my travels. I liked him, and he returned the
liking well. He was phlegmatic by nature, regular from principle,
zealous from habit, evincing little disturbance at the different
surprises of life, very quick with his hands, and apt at any service
required of him; and, despite his name, never giving advice—even when
asked for it.
Conseil had followed me for the last ten years wherever science led.
Never once did he complain of the length or fatigue of a journey, never
make an objection to pack his portmanteau for whatever country it might
be, or however far away, whether China or Congo. Besides all this, he
had good health, which defied all sickness, and solid muscles, but no
nerves; good morals are understood. This boy was thirty years old, and
his age to that of his master as fifteen to twenty. May I be excused
for saying that I was forty years old?
But Conseil had one fault: he was ceremonious to a degree, and would
never speak to me but in the third person, which was sometimes
provoking.
"Conseil," said I again, beginning with feverish hands to make
preparations for my departure.
Certainly I was sure of this devoted boy. As a rule, I never asked him
if it were convenient for him or not to follow me in my travels; but
this time the expedition in question might be prolonged, and the
enterprise might be hazardous in pursuit of an animal capable of
sinking a frigate as easily as a nutshell. Here there was matter for
reflection even to the most impassive man in the world. What would
Conseil say?
"Conseil," I called a third time.
Conseil appeared.
"Did you call, sir?" said he, entering.
"Yes, my boy; make preparations for me and yourself too. We leave in
two hours."
"As you please, sir," replied Conseil, quietly.
"Not an instant to lose;—lock in my trunk all travelling utensils,
coats, shirts, and stockings—without counting, as many as you can, and
make haste."
"And your collections, sir?" observed Conseil.
"We will think of them by and by."
"What! the archiotherium, the hyracotherium, the oreodons, the
cheropotamus, and the other skins?"
"They will keep them at the hotel."
"And your live Babiroussa, sir?"
"They will feed it during our absence; besides, I will give orders to
forward our menagerie to France."
"We are not returning to Paris, then?" said Conseil.
"Oh! certainly," I answered, evasively, "by making a curve."
"Will the curve please you, sir?"
"Oh! it will be nothing; not quite so direct a road, that is all. We
take our passage in the _Abraham Lincoln_."
"As you think proper, sir," coolly replied Conseil.
"You see, my friend, it has to do with the monster—the famous narwhal.
We are going to purge it from the seas. The author of a work in quarto
in two volumes, on the 'Mysteries of the Great Submarine Grounds'
cannot forbear embarking with Commander Farragut. A glorious mission,
but a dangerous one! We cannot tell where we may go; these animals can
be very capricious. But we will go whether or no; we have got a captain
who is pretty wide-awake."
I opened a credit account for Babiroussa, and, Conseil following, I
jumped into a cab. Our luggage was transported to the deck of the
frigate immediately. I hastened on board and asked for Commander
Farragut. One of the sailors conducted me to the poop, where I found
myself in the presence of a good-looking officer, who held out his hand
to me.
"Monsieur Pierre Aronnax?" said he.
"Himself," replied I; "Commander Farragut?"
"You are welcome, Professor; your cabin is ready for you."
I bowed, and desired to be conducted to the cabin destined for me.
The _Abraham Lincoln_ had been well chosen and equipped for her new
destination. She was a frigate of great speed, fitted with
high-pressure engines which admitted a pressure of seven atmospheres.
Under this the _Abraham Lincoln_ attained the mean speed of nearly
eighteen knots and a third an hour—a considerable speed, but,
nevertheless, insufficient to grapple with this gigantic cetacean.
The interior arrangements of the frigate corresponded to its nautical
qualities. I was well satisfied with my cabin, which was in the after
part, opening upon the gunroom.
"We shall be well off here," said I to Conseil.
"As well, by your honour's leave, as a hermit-crab in the shell of a
whelk," said Conseil.
I left Conseil to stow our trunks conveniently away, and remounted the
poop in order to survey the preparations for departure.
At that moment Commander Farragut was ordering the last moorings to be
cast loose which held the _Abraham Lincoln_ to the pier of Brooklyn. So
in a quarter of an hour, perhaps less, the frigate would have sailed
without me. I should have missed this extraordinary, supernatural, and
incredible expedition, the recital of which may well meet with some
scepticism.
But Commander Farragut would not lose a day nor an hour in scouring the
seas in which the animal had been sighted. He sent for the engineer.
"Is the steam full on?" asked he.
"Yes, sir," replied the engineer.
"Go ahead," cried Commander Farragut.
The quay of Brooklyn, and all that part of New York bordering on the
East River, was crowded with spectators. Three cheers burst
successively from five hundred thousand throats; thousands of
handkerchiefs were waved above the heads of the compact mass, saluting
the _Abraham Lincoln_, until she reached the waters of the Hudson, at
the point of that elongated peninsula which forms the town of New York.
Then the frigate, following the coast of New Jersey along the right
bank of the beautiful river, covered with villas, passed between the
forts, which saluted her with their heaviest guns. The _Abraham
Lincoln_ answered by hoisting the American colours three times, whose
thirty-nine stars shone resplendent from the mizzen-peak; then
modifying its speed to take the narrow channel marked by buoys placed
in the inner bay formed by Sandy Hook Point, it coasted the long sandy
beach, where some thousands of spectators gave it one final cheer. The
escort of boats and tenders still followed the frigate, and did not
leave her until they came abreast of the lightship, whose two lights
marked the entrance of New York Channel.
Six bells struck, the pilot got into his boat, and rejoined the little
schooner which was waiting under our lee, the fires were made up, the
screw beat the waves more rapidly, the frigate skirted the low yellow
coast of Long Island; and at eight bells, after having lost sight in
the north-west of the lights of Fire Island, she ran at full steam on
to the dark waters of the Atlantic.