20,000 Leagues Under the Seas (2nd version) | Page 9

other enormous
wreckage, and again because of this speed of movement.
So only two possible solutions to the question were left, creating two
very distinct groups of supporters: on one side, those favoring a
monster of colossal strength; on the other, those favoring an
"underwater boat" of tremendous motor power.
Now then, although the latter hypothesis was completely admissible, it
couldn't stand up to inquiries conducted in both the New World and the
Old. That a private individual had such a mechanism at his disposal
was less than probable. Where and when had he built it, and how could
he have built it in secret?
Only some government could own such an engine of destruction, and in
these disaster-filled times, when men tax their ingenuity to build
increasingly powerful aggressive weapons, it was possible that,
unknown to the rest of the world, some nation could have been testing
such a fearsome machine. The Chassepot rifle led to the torpedo, and
the torpedo has led to this underwater battering ram, which in turn will
lead to the world putting its foot down. At least I hope it will.
But this hypothesis of a war machine collapsed in the face of formal
denials from the various governments. Since the public interest was at
stake and transoceanic travel was suffering, the sincerity of these
governments could not be doubted. Besides, how could the assembly of
this underwater boat have escaped public notice? Keeping a secret
under such circumstances would be difficult enough for an individual,
and certainly impossible for a nation whose every move is under
constant surveillance by rival powers.
So, after inquiries conducted in England, France, Russia, Prussia, Spain,
Italy, America, and even Turkey, the hypothesis of an underwater
Monitor was ultimately rejected.

And so the monster surfaced again, despite the endless witticisms
heaped on it by the popular press, and the human imagination soon got
caught up in the most ridiculous ichthyological fantasies.
After I arrived in New York, several people did me the honor of
consulting me on the phenomenon in question. In France I had
published a two-volume work, in quarto, entitled The Mysteries of the
Great Ocean Depths. Well received in scholarly circles, this book had
established me as a specialist in this pretty obscure field of natural
history. My views were in demand. As long as I could deny the reality
of the business, I confined myself to a flat "no comment." But soon,
pinned to the wall, I had to explain myself straight out. And in this vein,
"the honorable Pierre Aronnax, Professor at the Paris Museum," was
summoned by The New York Herald to formulate his views no matter
what.
I complied. Since I could no longer hold my tongue, I let it wag. I
discussed the question in its every aspect, both political and scientific,
and this is an excerpt from the well-padded article I published in the
issue of April 30.
"Therefore," I wrote, "after examining these different hypotheses one
by one, we are forced, every other supposition having been refuted, to
accept the existence of an extremely powerful marine animal.
"The deepest parts of the ocean are totally unknown to us. No
soundings have been able to reach them. What goes on in those distant
depths? What creatures inhabit, or could inhabit, those regions twelve
or fifteen miles beneath the surface of the water? What is the
constitution of these animals? It's almost beyond conjecture.
"However, the solution to this problem submitted to me can take the
form of a choice between two alternatives.
"Either we know every variety of creature populating our planet, or we
do not.
"If we do not know every one of them, if nature still keeps

ichthyological secrets from us, nothing is more admissible than to
accept the existence of fish or cetaceans of new species or even new
genera, animals with a basically 'cast-iron' constitution that inhabit
strata beyond the reach of our soundings, and which some development
or other, an urge or a whim if you prefer, can bring to the upper level of
the ocean for long intervals.
"If, on the other hand, we do know every living species, we must look
for the animal in question among those marine creatures already
cataloged, and in this event I would be inclined to accept the existence
of a giant narwhale.
"The common narwhale, or sea unicorn, often reaches a length of sixty
feet. Increase its dimensions fivefold or even tenfold, then give this
cetacean a strength in proportion to its size while enlarging its
offensive weapons, and you have the animal we're looking for. It would
have the proportions determined by the officers of the Shannon, the
instrument needed to perforate the Scotia, and the power to pierce a
steamer's hull.
"In essence, the narwhale is